;'PARKE  GODWIN 


DANIEL  KAINE. 

-»-o-»- 

Labor  Oinnia  Vincit. 


LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


Class 


D  Api 


A  BIOGRAPHY 


OF 


WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT, 


WITH 


EXTRACTS  FROM  HIS  PRIVATE  CORRESPONDENCE. 


BY 

PARKE     GODWIN. 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 

first. 


NEW    YORK: 
D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY, 

I,     3,     AND     5     BOND     STREET. 
1883. 


COPYRIGHT   BY 

D .     A  P  P  L  E  T  O  N    AND    C  O  M  P  A  K Y , 

1883- 


PREFACE. 


SOME  time  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Bryant,  in  1878,  his 
younger  daughter,  Miss  Julia  S.  Bryant,  to  whom  his  papers 
were  left,  sent  me  copies  of  such  of  them  as  she  supposed 
might  be  useful  in  the  preparation  of  a  memoir  of  his  life. 
These  consisted  of  letters  written  by  him  or  to  him,  mostly 
of  a  private  or  domestic  nature,  and  of  a  few  unpublished 
or  uncollected  poems.  Accompanying  them  were  several 
scrap-books  containing  some  of  his  editorial  writings,  and 
extracts  of  newspaper  articles  written  about  him  at  various 
times. 

To  these  scanty  materials  I  was  able,  through  the  kind 
ness  of  their  possessors,  to  add  his  letters  to  Arthur  and  John 
H.  Bryant,  his  brothers,  Gulian  C.  Verplanck,  the  Rev.  Or- 
ville  Dewey,  Mr.  John  Bigelow,  the  Rev.  R.  C.  Waterston, 
Miss  Christiana  and  Miss  Janet  Gibson,  of  Edinburgh,  Mr.  H. 
W.  Longfellow,  Professor  J.  S.  Thaycr,  of  Cambridge,  Miss 
J.  Dewey,  Mrs.  L.  M.  S.  Moulton,  Mr.  John  H.  Gourlie,  B 
R.  H.  Stoddard,  and  others — for  which  I  return  my  thanks 
to  such  of  them  as  are  living,  and  to  the  heirs  of  such  as 
have  passed  away. 

Mr.  Bryant,  as  the  editor  of  a  daily  newspaper,  was  not 


vi  PREFACE. 

able  to  be  a  voluminous  letter-writer.  The  letters  he  wrote 
were  mostly  on  business,  or  in  acknowledgment  of  others, 
and  they  were  written  at  times  when  it  was  scarcely  possible 
to  engage  in  discussions  of  opinions  or  of  the  events  of  the 
day.  Besides,  his  relations  to  his  contemporaries  were  re 
stricted,  and,  except  with  his  intimate  and  life-long  friend, 
Mr.  Richard  H.  Dana,  he  cannot  be  said  to  have  maintained 
any  extensive  correspondence.  Nevertheless,  out  of  the  brief 
and  familiar  notes  interchanged  with  his  friends,  I  have  been 
able  to  select  many  passages  which,  I  trust,  will  be  found 
of  interest,  either  as  illustrative  of  the  times  or  of  the  writer's 
character.  Whatever  he  said  was  gracefully  said,  and,  either 
in  the  mode  of  expression  or  in  the  turn  of  the  thought, 
was  apt  to  contain  something  worthy  of  attention. 

I  will  confess  that  I  have  been  greatly  embarrassed  as 
to  how  I  should  treat  the  editorial  part  of  his  life,  the  more 
so  as  there  are  no  models  that  I  know  of  in  English  lit 
erature  for  work  of  the  kind.  The  statesman  by  the  meas 
ures  he  promotes,  the  soldier  by  his  battles,  the  author 
by  his  books,  and  the  artist  by  his  works,  furnishes  certain 
stages,  or,  as  the  French  say,  c'tapes,  or  halting-places,  in  his 
career,  which  enables  the  biographer  to  mark  the  steps  of 
his  progress.  But  the  life  of  the  editor  affords  no  such 
salient  points.  His  labors  consist  of  a  series  of  incessant 
and  innumerable  blows,  of  the  real  influences  of  which  it  is 
hard  to  judge,  except  in  a  general  way.  It  can  only  be 
told  of  him  what  he  endeavored  to  do,  and  not  what  he 
actually  did.  Whatever  effects  he  may  have  wrought  on 
public  opinion  were  wrought  by  indefinitely  small  incre 
ments,  of  the  precise  force  and  value  of  which  we  have  no 
measure. 


PREFACE.  vii 

Mr.  Bryant's  editorial  life  extended  over  a  period  of  more 
than  fifty  years.  During  that  time  he  used  his  best  abilities 
and  exertions  in  affecting  the  sentiments  and  aims  of  his  fel 
low-men  :  but  to  give  a  full  account  of  his  activity  in  this 
respect  would  be  to  write  the  history  of  his  times  as  well 
as  of  his  life,  stretching  the  narrative  into  interminable  vol 
umes  ;  and  yet  to  omit  all  account  of  it  would  be  to  neg 
lect  a  most  important  part  of  his  usefulness.  In  this  diffi 
culty,  I  have  adopted  the  method  of  taking  it  for  granted 
that  the  reader  is  more  or  less  familiar  with  the  political 
history  of  the  nation,  and  of  referring  to  Mr.  Bryant's  posi 
tion  and  efforts  only  in  regard  to  its  leading  events.  Mv 
desire,  in  every  case,  has  been  to  estimate  his  services  with 
out  any  of  the  exaggeration  to  which  I  am,  perhaps,  uncon 
sciously  inclined  by  circumstances. 

It  has  been  thought  advisable — to  supplement  this  memoir 
and  to  preserve  some  permanent  record  of  a  singularly  active 
and  beneficent  career — to  add  to  these  volumes  a  uniform 
edition  of  Mr.  Bryant's  more  important  writings,  both  in 
prose  and  poetry.  It  will  comprise  his  Poems,  his  Orations 
and  Addresses,  some  Sketches  of  Travel,  and  a  volume  of 
Miscellanies. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   FIRST. 

PACE 

AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  MR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE  i 

Reason  for  writing  it  ;  birth  ;  parentage  ;  childhood  ;  early  tastes  and 
studies;  school;  severe  discipline.  Amusements:  House-raisings;  cidci- 
making  ;  maple-sugar  camps.  An  eclipse  of  the  sun.  Religious  influences. 
Respect  for  the  clergy.  A  child's  prayer.  Preparing  for  college.  Love  of 
Greek.  Short  term  at  college.  Chemistry,  botany,  and  poetry. 

CHAPTER   SECOND. 
THE  PLACE  AND  TIME  OF  THE  POET'S  BIRTH 38 

Birthplace  of  the  poet :  Cummington  ;  its  late  settlement.  Character 
of  the  settlers  ;  their  revolutionary  patriotism.  The  homestead.  Natural 
beauty  of  the  hill-region.  Severe  winters.  Time  of  the  poet's  birth.  A 
glance  at  contemporary  politics  and  literature. 

CHAPTER   THIRD. 
THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS 47 

The  Bryant  ancestry  :•  A  table  of  genealogies;  descent  from  the  May 
flower  pilgrims  ;  physical  strength  of  the  stock  ;  consumption  and  poetry  in 
the  family.  Dr.  Bryant,  the  father:  his  love  of  letters.  Unitarianism. 
Sarah  Snell,  the  mother :  her  energy.  A  domestic  diary.  The  family  li 
brary.  The  children's  readings  and  rambles.  Friends  and  acquaintances. 
Judges  Lyman  and  Howe.  Solitude  of  the  home. 

CHAPTER   FOURTH. 
THE  BOY  POET  AND  POLITICIAN 67 

The  little  preacher.  Watts's  hymns.  Writes  verses  in  childhood. 
Fiery  politics.  Hatred  of  Jefferson.  "  The  Embargo,"  a  satire  ;  notice  of 
it  in  the  "Monthly  Anthology";  a  second  edition,  with  other  poems; 


x  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

poetical  versions  of  Scripture;   a  translation  from  Virgil;  "The  Bard"; 
Napoleon  challenged  ;  other  juvenile  poems  ;  value  of  such  productions. 

CHAPTER   FIFTH. 
THE  COLLEGE  STUDENT 85 

Williams  College  ;  why  chosen  ;  reminiscences  of  a  classmate ;  John 
Avery ;  Anacreon's  ode  to  Spring ;  fragment  from  Simonides  ;  lines  on  the 
college  ;  the  Gerrymander  ;  takes  a  dismission.  Return  home.  Reminis 
cences  of  brothers.  Influence  of  Greek  literature.  "  Thanatopsis  "  written 
and  hidden  away. 

CHAPTER   SIXTH. 
POEMS  ON  LOVE  AND  DEATH.    A.  D.  1811-1814 102 

Begins  to  study  law  at  Worthington.  Reads  Wordsworth.  Yearnings 
for  college.  A  patriotic  ode.  Poems  on  love.  Experience  or  fancy  ? 
Doubts  and  misgivings.  A  disappointment.  Revulsion  of  feeling.  A 
chorus  of  ghosts.  Colloquies  with  death.  A  ghastly  visitation.  Speedy 
recovery. 

CHAPTER   SEVENTH. 
THE  LAW  STUDENT.    A.  D.  1814,  1815 119 

Removal  to  Bridgewater.  Likes  the  place.  Judge  William  Baylies. 
An  anti-war  ode.  Diligence  in  business.  Youthful  frolics.  Interest  in 
public  affairs.  Wants  to  enlist  in  the  army.  Political  transformations. 
Bitter  federalism.  The  Hartford  Convention.  An  early  rebel.  State 
rights.  The  return  of  peace.  Escape  of  Napoleon.  Admitted  to  the  bar. 

CHAPTER   EIGHTH. 
THE  YOUNG  LAWYER.    A.  D.  1816-1819 MO 

Studies  in  poetry.  Where  to  go.  Settles  in  Plainfield.  Writes  "  The 
Waterfowl."  Removes  to  Great  Barrington.  A  complaint  of  the  lungs. 
Dislikes  law.  Discovery  of  "  Thanatopsis  "  :  It  is  published  in  the  "  North 
American  Review  "  ;  supposed  to  be  Dr.  Bryant's  ;  success  of  the  poem. 
An  address  on  the  Bible.  An  essay  on  American  poetry  :  The  old  versifiers 
judged  and  dismissed.  Town  clerk,  tything-man  and  justice  of  the  peace. 

CHAPTER   NINTH. 
THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS.    A.  D.  1820,  1821        .        .        .  161 

Death  of  Dr.  Bryant.  Acquaintance  with  the  Sedgwicks.  Hymns  writ 
ten.  A  Fourth  of  July  oration.  The  poet  in  love  :  Miss  Fanny  Fairchild. 
Marriage  :  Announcement  of  it  to  the  mother.  "  The  Ages  "  read  before 


CONTENTS. 

\  1 

the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society  of  Cambridge.  Reminiscences.  Acquaint 
ances  in  Boston.  The  first  collection  of  poems  published :  notice  of  it  in 
the  "North  American";  noticed  in  the  "  New  York  American  "  by  Ver- 
planck.  The  dawn  of  our  native  literature. 

CHAPTER   TENTH. 
THE  LAW  ABANDONED.    A.  D.  1822-1824     ....  .182 

Changes  of  political  opinion.  Studies  in  political  economy.  Theodore 
Sedgwick.  Interest  in  the  Greek  struggle  :  A  speech  in  favor  of  the  Greeks. 
Visit  to  New  York.  Increasing  dissatisfaction  with  the  law.  A  rejected 
article ;  writes  for  the  "  United  States  Gazette."  Twenty  or  more  new 
poems.  Pay  for  poetry.  "The  Spectre  Ship."  Interest  in  American  lit 
erature.  The  law  abandoned.  Village  remembrances  of  the  poet. 

CHAPTER   ELEVENTH. 
"A  LITERARY  ADVENTURER."    A.  D.  1825,  1826 206 

New  York  in  1825  ;  its  extent  and  society.  Mr.  Bryant's  removal 
to  the  city :  Early  friends ;  the  Sedgwick  brothers  ;  Cooper,  Verplanck, 
Halleck,  Ware,  Anderson,  Sands.  Cooper's  lunch  ;  a  bread  and  cheese 
club.  Fondness  for  the  artists.  Edits  the  "  New  York  Review."  Hard 
work.  Dana's  first  poetry.  A  good  Catholic.  The  Academy  of  Design  ; 
Lectures  on  mythology.  The  Athenreum  ;  lectures  on  poetry.  Da  Ponte. 
Madame  Malibran.  The  "Review"  merged  in  the  "  United.  States  Ga 
zette."  Dark  prospects.  Assists  on  a  daily  paper. 

CHAPTER   TWELFTH. 
THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR.    A.  D.  1827,  1828    .       .  .       .230 

The  New  York  "  Evening  Post " :  Mr.  Bryant  engaged  as  a  subordi 
nate  editor ;  character  of  his  services.  Continues  to  act  as  editor  of  the 
"Review."  Contributors  to  it:  Longfellow,  Willis,  Bancroft,  Gushing. 
Halleck's  first  poems.  Bryant's  poems  of  this  period.  Dana's  "  Buccaneer." 
Reviews  Dana  in  the  "  North  American."  "  The  Talisman "  begun. 
Genial  editorship.  The  Sketch  Club.  Literary  pranks  of  Sands  and  Bryant. 
Mr.  Bryant's  contributions  to  the  "  Talisman."  An  eighth  of  January  ode. 
Becomes  popular  with  the  supporters  of  General  Jackson.  Correspondence 
with  Verplanck. 

CHAPTER   THIRTEENTH. 
THE  EDITOR  IN  CHIEF.    A.  D.  1829-1832 251 

A  proprietor  of  the  "  Evening  Post "  :  Mr.  Bryant's  notions  of  the 
editorial  function.  His  political  philosophy  :  Not  a  mere  doctrinaire  ;  his 


xii  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

devotion  to  freedom  and  equal  rights  ;  his  creed  unpopular.  His  associate, 
William  Leggett :  Their  intense  and  radical  democracy  ;  uphold  Jackson's 
administration.  Proscriptions  not  condemned.  Bryant's  sympathy  with 
revolutions  and  reforms  :  No  great  like  of  reformers.  Poetry  deserted, 
yet  he  gathers  a  volume  ;  sends  a  copy  to  Washington  Irving  in  England  ; 
letter  to  Irving. 

CHAPTER   FOURTEENTH. 

SUCCESS   OF  THE  POEMS.      A.  D.  1832 267 

A  visit  to  Washington  :  The  capital  fifty  years  ago  ;  glimpses  of  Old 
Hickory,  Clay,  Calhoun,  Webster,  etc.  The  poems  in  England  :  Irving's 
kindness  ;  notices  of  them  in  the  reviews  ;  John  Wilson  ;  notices  of  them 
at  home  ;  letters  to  Dana  on  the  subject.  Versification  :  Advice  to  John 
H.  Bryant  on  writing  poetry.  Edits  "Tales  of  the  Glauber  Spa."  Illi 
nois  in  1832.  Captain  Abraham  Lincoln.  The  Bryant  family  pioneers  of 
the  State.  The  prairies.  Cholera  in  New  York.  Residence  in  Hoboken. 
Mr.  Bryant  stays  at  his  desk.  Nullification  condemned.  Death  of  his 
friend  Robert  C.  Sands. 

CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH. 
THE  BATTLE  WITH  THE  BANK.    A.  D.  1833,  1834       ....  291 

Jackson's  battle  with  the  National  Bank  :  Earnest  support  of  the  "  Even 
ing  Post";  it  alienates  its  mercantile  clients;  violent  politics.  A  visit  to 
Canada.  Prologue  to  a  play.  Correspondence  with  Dana :  Criticisms  of 
one  another's  verses  ;  "  The  Robbers,"  a  suppressed  poem.  A  Boston  edi 
tion  of  the  poems  published.  Preparing  to  go  abroad.  Abolition  mobs  in 
New  York. 

CHAPTER   SIXTEENTH. 
THE  FIRST  VISIT  TO  EUROPE.    A.  D.  1834-1836        .        .        .        .307 

Sails  for  Havre.  Residence  in  France,  Italy,  and  Germany  ;  Longfellow  ; 
sudden  recall  home  by  Leggett's  illness.  Offered  a  dinner,  which  he  de 
clines.  Affairs  in  New  York.  Miss  Martineau.  International  copyright. 
Van  Buren.  Unpopularity  of  the  journal,  which  rebukes  the  mob  and 
defends  the  Abolitionists.  Mr.  Bryant  meditates  a  removal  to  the  West : 
Letters  to  his  brother  John  on  the  subject. 

CHAPTER   SEVENTEENTH. 
THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM.    A.  D.  1836 324 

Jackson's  "  experiments  on  the  currency."  The  question  of  corpora 
tions.  Conspiracies  and  usury  laws.  Factitious  prosperity.  The  "  Even- 


CONTENTS.  xjjj 

PACE 

ing  Post "  denounced  by  its  party  leaders.  Its  Locofocoism.  The  rise  of 
the  Abolitionists :  The  position  of  Bryant  and  Leggett  ;  it  pleases  none  of 
the  parties.  Fierce  battles  of  opinion  :  Courage  and  independence  of  the 
"  Evening  Post."  A  personal  reminiscence  :  my  first  acquaintance  with 
Mr.  Bryant  ;  his  appearance  and  manner  ;  his  solitude.  Miss  Eliza  Rob- 
bins.  Miss  Sedgwick.  Mrs.  Jameson.  Italian  exiles.  Habits  in  the  office. 
Leggett's  "  Plaindealer "  :  It  involves  Bryant  with  Irving;  a  difference 
without  consequences. 

CHAPTER   EIGHTEENTH. 
POLITICAL  WARFARE.    A.  D.  1837,  1838       .       .       .       .       .       .345 

Negro  suffrage  defended.  Martin  Van  Buren  President.  The  commer 
cial  crisis.  The  independent  Treasury  :  Warmly  espoused  by  the  "  Even 
ing  Post."  The  merchants  fall  away.  The  right  of  petition.  Slavery  in 
the  District  of  Columbia  and  the  Territories.  The  murder  of  Lovejoy. 
The  case  of  the  Amistad  negroes.  Mr.  Bryant's  moderate  but  determined 
antislavery  views.  His  journal  at  its  lowest  ebb.  1 1  is  nationality  and  love 
of  the  Union.  Patriotic  poems.  Familiar  letters. 

CHAPTER   NINETEENTH. 
RECREATIONS,  VISITORS,  ETC.    A.  D.  1839 365 

Intense  labor.  Compensations.  Pedestrian  tours.  Study  of  German. 
Baron  von  Mandlesloe.  Life  in  the  office :  Visitors  ;  Cooper,  Davezac, 
Audubon,  Stephens,  Bancroft.  Mr.  Bryant's  earnest  devotion  to  American 
literature.  Emerson,  Prescott,  Hawthorne,  Ware.  Young  Dana's  "  Two 
Years  before  the  Mast "  :  Difficulty  of  finding  a  publisher  ;  its  success  when 
published.  Death  of  Leggett.  A  dinner  of  poets:  Bryant,  Dana,  Long 
fellow,  and  Halleck.  Notice  of  Charles  Follen. 

CHAPTER   TWENTIETH. 
THE  HARD-CIDER  CAMPAIGN,  ETC.    A.  D.  1840,  1841        .       .       .  379 

Defeat  of  Van  Buren's  administration.  The  Hard  Cider  campaign. 
Political  tomfoolery  :  Mr.  Bryant's  ridicule  of  it.  Death  of  President  Har 
rison  :  Mr.  Bryant  gives  offence  by  refusing  to  put  his  paper  in  mourning ; 
bitter  denunciations  ;  his  indifference.  Character  of  John  Tyler.  The 
Black  Tariff.  Country  rambles.  Van  Buren  in  retirement.  Visit  to  Dana. 
A  "  Hymn  of  the  Sea." 

CHAPTER   TWENTY-FIRST. 

NEW  POEMS.    A.  D.  1842 392 

Letter  to  the  Rev.  Orville  Dewey.  Affairs  in  New  York.  Morpcth. 
Animal  magnetism.  Arrival  of  Dickens  :  His  reception  ;  Mr.  Bryant  par- 


xiv  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

ticipates  ;  a  memorable  breakfast.  International  copyright.  "  The  Foun 
tain  "  and  other  poems  published :  Professor  Felton's  criticisms.  Poetry 
and  politics.  Mr.  Bryant's  usefulness  as  an  editor.  Approval  of  Dr. 
Channing :  Death  of  the  great  moralist ;  Mr.  Bryant's  notice  of  him. 

CHAPTER   TWENTY-SECOND. 
A  POLITICAL  EMBARRASSMENT.    A.  D.  1843,  1844      .        .        .        .405 

Growth  of  the  antislavery  sentiment.  A  visit  to  the  South.  A  country 
home  acquired.  Letters  to  friends.  Rambles  in  New  England.  Married 
old  maids.  The  plot  for  the  acquisition  of  Texas  :  Mr.  Bryant  opposes  it ; 
his  party  adopts  it  by  the  nomination  of  Polk  for  the  Presidency.  Mr. 
Bryant's  embarrassment :  A  secret  circular  issued  ;  excitement  produced  by 
it ;  explanation  of  it  by  the  "  Evening  Post."  A  vigorous  protest  against 
the  Texas  policy  :  Not  successful,  nor  yet  fruitless. 


CHAPTER  FIRST. 

AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  MR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.* 

I  HAVE  friends  who  insist  that  I  shall  set  down  some  notes 
of  the  events  of  my  life,  thinking  that  the  narrative  of  certain 
parts  of  it  may  not  be  without  interest  or  instruction.  I  sup 
pose  that  as  much  as  this  may  be  said  of  the  biography  of 
almost  any  man  if  faithfully  written.  There  is,  however,  one 
embarrassment  with  which  I  am  met  in  undertaking  this  task. 
My  memory  does  not,  in  general,  retain  minute  particulars. 
Often  when  I  desire  to  speak  of  what  happened  some  years 
ago,  or  perhaps  only  some  months,  I  find  the  attendant  cir 
cumstances,  some  of  which  are  perhaps  desirable  to  be  given 
for  the  sake  of  perspicuity,  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  my 
recollection.  If  I  could  recover  them,  I  might  select  from 
them  what  would  give  a  lifelike  air  and  an  individual  charac 
ter  to  my  story.  When  I  compare  what  I  am  able  to  relate 
of  my  own  life  with  the  autobiographies  of  Franklin  and  some 
others,  I  find  the  poverty  of  my  materials  so  apparent  that  I 
seriously  distrust  my  power  of  engaging  the  attention  of  the 
reader.  I  have  begun  to  write,  however,  and  shall  go  on  ;  and, 
,  when  a  few  sheets  are  filled,  I  shall  be  able  to  judge  whether 
the  manuscript  shall  be  thrown  into  the  fire  or  put  by  with 
the  papers  which  I  preserve. 

*  This  was  written  in  the  year  1874-5. — G. 
VOL.  i. — 2 


2  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

I  was  born  in  Cummington,  in  the  State  of  Massachusetts, 
on  the  3d  of  November,  1794,  when  that  region  was  a  new 
settlement.  My  father  and  mother  then  lived  in  a  house, 
which  stands  no  longer,  near  the  center  of  the  township,  amid 
fields  which  have  a  steep  slope  to  the  north  fork  of  the  West- 
field  River,  a  shallow  stream,  brawling  over  a  bed  of  loose 
stones  in  a  very  narrow  valley.  A  few  old  apple-trees  mark 
the  spot  where  the  house  stood,  and  opposite,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  way,  is  a  graveyard,  in  which  sleep  some  of  those 
who  came  to  Cummington  while  it  was  yet  a  forest,  and 
hewed  away  the  trees  and  were  the  first  to  till  its  fields. 

My  father,  Dr.  Peter  Bryant,  was  a  physician  and  sur 
geon,  who  came  to  the  place  a  young  man  from  North  Bridge- 
water,  where  he  was  born.  He  was  fond  of  study  and  well 
read  in  his  profession.  As  a  surgeon  he  had  a  steady  and  firm 
hand  and  an  accurate  eye,  and  performed  difficult  operations 
with  great  nicety  and  dispatch.  I  remember  to  have  heard 
Professor  Eaton,  of  the  Rensselaer  School,  in  Troy,  say  that 
he  was  the  most  dexterous  operator  that  he  had  seen  handle 
the  surgeon's  knife.  He  was  a  pupil  of  Leprilete,  a  refugee 
from  St.  Domingo,  educated  in  Paris,  who  settled  in  Norton, 
in  the  eastern  part  of  Massachusetts,  where  he  married  the 
daughter  of  a  plain  farmer,  and  practiced  as  a  surgical  opera 
tor  with  an  extensive  reputation.  I  remember'  having  heard 
this  anecdote  of  him.  He  was  once  on  a  visit  to  Taunton, 
when  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  place,  addressing  the  courteous 
and  lively  Frenchman,  as  he  stood  dressed  according  to  his 
wont,  with  great  elegance  and  precision,  wearing  ruffles  at  his 
wrists,  said :  "  Do  bring  Mrs.  Leprilete  to  Taunton ;  we  will 
do  everything  in  our  power  to  make  her  visit  agreeable." 
"  Ah,  madame,"  replied  he,  "  you  geev  her  leetle  pork  and 
beans  ;  dot  all  she  want." 

My  father  delighted  in  poetry,  and  in  his  library  were  the 
works  of  most  of  the  eminent  English  poets.  He  wrote  verses 
himself,  mostly  humorous  and  satirical.  He  was  not  unskilled 
in  Latin  poetry,  in  which  the  odes  of  Horace  were  his  favor- 


MR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  3 

ites.  He  was  fond  of  music,  played  on  the  violin,  and  I  re 
member  hearing  him  say  that  he  once  made  a  bass  viol— for 
he  was  very  ingenious  in  the  use  of  tools — and  played  upon  it. 
He  was  of  a  mild  and  indulgent  temper,  somewhat  silent 
though  not  hesitating  in  conversation,  and  never  expatiated  at 
much  length  on  any  subject.  His  patients  generally  paid  him 
whatever  they  pleased,  if  ever  so  little,  so  that  he  could  not  by 
any  means  be  called  a  thriving  man.  In  one  respect  he  did 
not  stint  himself;  he  always  dressed  well,  and  with  a  most 
scrupulous  neatness,  his  attire  being  that  of  a  Boston  gentle 
man,  and  he  had  a  certain  metropolitan  air.  In  figure  he  was 
square  built,  with  muscular  arms  and  legs,  and  in  his  prime 
was  possessed  of  great  strength.  He  would  take  up  a  barrel 
of  cider  and  lift  it  into  a  cart  over  the  wheel — a  feat  of  which 
he  was  not  unwilling  to  speak.  His  life  was  a  laborious  one, 
being  obliged  to  make  professional  visits  to  persons  living  at 
a  distance,  often  in  the  most  inclement  weather.  He  always 
made  these  journeys  on  horseback.  The  family  was  frequent 
ly  disturbed  at  midnight,  sometimes  in  the  dead  of  winter  or 
in  the  midst  of  a  furious  storm,  by  a  messenger  from  some 
sick  person  who  had  put  off  sending  for  him  until  that  un 
timely  hour.  Physicians  say  that  the  patient's  desire  to  see 
the  doctor  is  very  sure  to  increase  with  the  lateness  and  un- 
seasonableness  of  the  hour. 

I  have  been  told  by  a  farmer,  a  native  of  Cummington,  that 
he  remembered  with  pleasure  my  father's  polite  manners,  and 
that  he  had  always  a  bow  and  a  kindly  greeting  for  him  when 
he  was  a  shy  boy — a  practice  which  he  remarks  that  my  fa 
ther  always  followed,  even  toward  the  youngest. 

My  father  took  great  interest  in  political  questions.  Tic 
belonged  to  the  party  called  Federalists,  who  at  that  time 
were  strong  in  Massachusetts,  but  in  the  Union  at  large  were 
a  minority,  and  saw  the  Republic  governed  by  their  political 
adversaries.  He  represented  Cummington  for  several  succes 
sive  years  in  the  Massachusetts  Legislature,  and  was  after 
ward  a  member  of  the  State  Senate. 


4  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

My  mother,  Sarah  Snell  Bryant,  was  the  daughter  of  Eb- 
enezer  Snell,  of  Cummington,  one  of  the  first  settlers  of  the 
region  in  which  I  -was  born.  Concerning  him  I  shall  say  more 
hereafter.  She  was  born  in  North  Bridgewater,  and  was 
brought  by  her  father  when  a  little  child  to  Cummington. 
She  was  tall,  of  an  erect  figure,  and,  until  rather  late  in  life, 
of  an  uncommonly  youthful  appearance.  She  was  a  person 
of  excellent  practical  sense,  of  a  quick  and  sensitive  moral 
judgment,  and  had  no  patience  with  any  form  of  deceit  or 
duplicity.  Her  prompt  condemnation  of  injustice,  even  in 
those  instances  in  which  it  is  tolerated  by  the  world,  made  a 
strong  impression  upon  me  in  early  life,  and  if,  in  the  discus 
sion  of  public  questions,  I  have  in  my  riper  age  endeavored  to 
keep  in  view  the  great  rule  of  right  without  much  regard  to 
persons,  it  has  been  owing  in  a  good  degree  to  the  force  of 
her  example,  which  taught  me  never  to  countenance  a  wrong 
because  others  did.  My  mother  was  a  careful  economist, 
which  the  circumstances  of  her  family  compelled  her  to  be, 
and  by  which  she  made  some  amends  for  my  father's  want  of 
attention  to  the  main  chance.  She  had  a  habit  of  keeping  a 
diary,  in  which  the  simple  occupations  of  the  day  and  the 
occurrences  in  which  the  family  or  the  neighborhood  had  an 
interest  were  briefly  noted  down.  Of  the  dates  obtained  from 
the  diary  I  shall  make  some  use  in  what  I  am  about  to  write. 
I  remember  hearing  her,  while  I  was  yet  a  child,  speak  con 
temptuously  of  Pope.  She  read  him,  not  without  a  certain 
admiration,  but  regarded  him  as  the  libeler  of  her  sex  in  his 
"  Epistle  on  the  Characters  of  Women." 

I  was  thought  to  be  a  precocious  child.  On  my  first  birth 
day  there  is  a  record  that  I  could  already  go  alone,  and  on 
the  28th  of  March,  1796,  when  but  a  few  days  more  than  six 
teen  months  old,  there  is  another  record  that  I  knew  all  the 
letters  of  the  alphabet.  In  both  these  instances  it  is  proba 
ble  that,  my  mother,  finding  me  rather  docile,  took  pleasure 
in  bringing  me  forward  somewhat  prematurely.  My  elder 
brother,  Austin,  was  more  remarkable  as  an  early  scholar  than 


MR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  5 

mvsclf.  On  the  28th  of  March,  i ;•</>,  before  the  close  of  his 
third  year,  he  began  to  read  the  Bible.  On  the  I2th  of  April 
following,  he  had  finished  the  book  of  Genesis,  and  on  the  315! 
of  March,  1797,  before  he  had  completed  his  fourth  year,  he 
had  read  the  Scriptures  through  from  beginning  to  end.  I 
ought  to  be  fond  of  church-going,  for  I  began  early,  making 
my  first  appearance  at  church  about  the  middle  of  my  third 
year,  though  there  is  no  note  of  how  I  behaved  myself  there. 

In  September,  1797,  the  family  removed  to  Plainlield,  but 
not  so  far  from  its  first  home  as  to  be  out  of  the  circuit  of  my 
father's  medical  practice.  Here,  on  the  7th  day  of  February 
following,  it  is  recorded  in  my  mother's  diary  that  I  was  ill, 
and  the  next  day  that  I  had  a  fever.  I  remember  an  incident 
of  that  illness.  I  was  in  bed,  my  father  approached  me  with 
a  lancet,  and,  taking  my  arm,  pierced  a  vein  at  the  meeting  of 
the  forearm  and  shoulder.  As  I  felt  the  prick  of  the  lancet  I 
uttered  a  faint  wail,  which  I  seem  even  yet  to  hear  as  I  write. 
Many  years  since — I  can  not  say  how  many— I  was  told,  by  a 
person  who  lived  near  us  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking, 
that  my  case  was  thought  a  doubtful  one,  and  that  my  father 
and  mother  feared,  to  use  his  expression,  "  that  they  should 
not  be  able  to  raise  me."  *  I  have  lately  been  to  look  at  the 
site  of  that  house.  Nothing  is  left  of  it  but  the  cellar  and 
some  portions  of  the  chimney,  among  a  thick  growth  of  bram 
bles.  Not  far  from  it  is  a  deserted  house,  where  there  lived  a 
neighbor,  and  beyond  the  house  an  old  road  no  longer  open 

*  Senator  Dawes,  whose  uncle  was  a  student  in  Dr.  Bryant's  office,  in  his  Cen 
tennial  Address  at  Cummington  on  June  26,  1879,  says :  "  The  poet  was  puny  and 
very  delicate  in  body,  and  of  a  painfully  delicate  nervous  temperament.  There 
seemed  little  promise  that  he  would  survive  the  casualties  of  early  childhood.  In 
after  years,  when  he  had  become  famous,  those  who  had  been  medical  students  with 
his  father  when  he  was  struggling  for  existence  with  the  odds  very  much  against  him, 
delighted  to  tell  of  the  cold  baths  they  were  ordered  to  give  the  infant  poet  in  a 
spring  near  the  house  each  early  morning  of  the  summer  months,  continuing  the 
treatment,  in  spite  of  the  outcries  and  protestations  of  their  patient,  so  late  into  the 
autumn  as  sometimes  to  break  the  ice  that  skimmed  the  surface."  This  was  doubt 
less  the  first  application  of  hydropathy  ever  made  in  those  parts. — G. 


6  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

to  the  public,  but  given  back  to  the  fields  from  which  it  was 
taken.  On  each  side  of  it  are  several  square  hollows,  evi 
dently  the  place  of  old  cellars  belonging  to  houses,  showing 
that  the  neighborhood,  now  solitary,  was  not  so  formerly. 

In  May,  1798,  our  family  removed  again  to  the  distance  of 
about  two  miles,  and  occupied  a  house  in  Cummington.  Not 
a  trace  of  it  now  remains ;  the  plow  has  passed  over  its  site 
and  leveled  the  earth  where  it  stood,  but  immediately  oppo 
site  are  yet  seen  the  hollow  of  an  old  cellar  and  the  founda 
tion  stones  of  a  house  where  there  lived  a  neighbor.  I  re 
member  it  as  then  embowered  among  flourishing  apple-trees, 
three  or  four  of  which,  now  in  decay,  the  mere  skeletons  of 
trees,  are  yet  standing.  The  whole  region  of  hill  country, 
which  includes  Cummington  and  the  neighboring  townships, 
shows  tokens  of  having  been,  in  the  agricultural  parts  at  least, 
much  more  populous  than  it  now  is.  There  are  frequently  to 
be  met  with,  old  cellars,  remains  of  garden  walls,  clumps  of 
exotic  shrubs,  tracks  of  old  roads  no  longer  open,  here  and 
there  an  abandoned  house,  still  standing,  and  the  remains  of 
mills  on  the  stream,  where  the  dams  have  long  since  been 
swept  away  by  the  floods,  showing  that  a  gradual  depopula 
tion  has  been  going  on.  Only  in  those  townships  where  vil 
lages,  of  which  there  were  none  in  my  early  days,  have  sprung 
up,  is  there  any  increase  of  population.  The  sod,  at  that  time 
just  reclaimed  from  forest,  was  exceedingly  fertile ;  the  culti 
vators  were  prosperous  and  growing  rich.  The  soil  is  now 
exhausted ;  the  fields  which  then  yielded  wheat  and  maize  are 
turned  into  pastures  and  mowing  lands ;  the  plow  is  little  used, 
and  the  land  which  once  sufficed  for  two  farms  now  barely 
answers  for  one. 

From  my  new  abode,  before  I  had  completed  my  fourth 
year,  I  was  sent  to  the  district  school,  but  at  first,  as  I  infer 
from  the  minutes  in  my  mother's  diary,  not  with  much  regu 
larity.  I  have  no  recollection  of  any  irksomeness  in  studying 
my  lessons  or  in  the  discipline  of  the  school.  I  only  recollect 
gathering  spearmint  by  the  brooks  in  company  with  my  fel- 


MR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  7 

low-scholars,  taking  off  my  cap  at  their  bidding  in  a  light  sum 
mer  shower,  that  the  rain  might  fall  on  my  hair  and  make  it 
grow ;  and  that  once  I  awoke  from  a  sound  nap  to  find  myself 
in  the  lap  of  the  schoolmistress,  and  was  vexed  to  be  thus 
treated  like  a  baby.* 

It  was  in  this  year  that  I  received  a  severe  kick  from  a 
horse.  I  recollect  it  as  clearly  as  if  it  were  yesterday.  A 
lady,  one  of  our  neighbors,  had  called,  and  fastened  the  horse 
on  which  she  came  to  a  little  tree  before  our  door.  Some 
chips,  freshly  cut  from  a  log  of  wood,  were  lying  about,  and 
my  elder  brother  amused  himself  with  throwing  them  at  the 
horse's  heels  to  make  him  caper.  I  followed  his  example. 
After  a  little  while,  my  brother,  thinking  me  too  near  the  ani 
mal,  called  to  me  to  come  away ;  but  I  paid  no  attention  to 
his  warning.  Suddenly  the  horse  flung  out  his  heels,  one  of 
which  struck  me  on  the  forehead  and  laid  me  flat.  I  was  car 
ried  into  the  house,  where  my  head  was  bandaged ;  the  scar 
of  the  wound  which  I  received  remains  on  my  forehead  to  this 
day.  Six  days  afterward,  there  is  a  record  in  my  mother's 
diary  that  I  was  unwell  and  was  bled.  The  practice  of  letting 
blood  was  then  universal  among  physicians  in  that  country. 
After  this  occurrence,  I  remember  going  to  school  with  a  ban 
daged  head. 

In  the  house  opposite  to  ours,  in  the  family  of  a  Mr.  White, 
lived  Jane  Robinson,  an  unmarried  woman,  an  amazon  in 
strength  and  spirit,  full-chested  and  large-armed,  of  whom  I 
have  heard  my  mother  relate  this  anecdote.  There  lived  in 
Plainfield  a  man  named  Colson,  Chris.  Colson  he  was  gener 
ally  called,  who  was  said  to  be  in  the  habit  of  beating  his  wife. 
At  a  regimental  review,  then  held  every  autumn,  at  which 
were  assembled  the  militia  of  several  townships,  and  which 
brought  together  great  numbers  of  people,  both  men  and 
women,  Jane  Robinson  headed  a  party  of  women,  who  took  a 

*  The  story  in  the  family  is  that  he  was  not  merely  "  vexed,"  but  almost  frantic 
with  rage.— G. 


8  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

rail  from  a  fence,  seized  upon  Colson,  put  him  astride  of  it, 
held  him  on,  carried  him  round  the  field,  and  dismissed  him 
with  an  admonition  to  flog  his  wife  no  more.  Jane  Robinson 
afterward  found  a  mate,  but  I  venture  to  say  that  he  never 
administered  to  her  even  what  the  English  common  law  calls 
"  moderate  correction." 

In  April,  1799,  when  I  was  in  my  fifth  year,  our  family 
went  to  live  at  the  homestead  of  my  grandfather  on  the 
mother's  side,  Ebenezer  Snell,  which  I  now  possess,  and  which 
became  my  father's  home  for  the  rest  of  his  lifetime.  My 
grandfather  Snell  was,  as  I  have  already  said,  one  of  the  early 
settlers  of  that  region.  He  came  to  Cummington  in  about  the 
year  1774,  or  perhaps  a  little  earlier,  while  most  of  it  yet  lay 
in  forest,  chose  a  farm  in  a  pleasant  situation,  with  an  east 
erly  slope,  just  west  of  the  one  on  which  he  lived  at  the  time 
I  came  to  him,  and  cut  down  the  trees  on  the  greater  part 
of  it,  planted  an  orchard,  and  raised  abundant  crops  of  wheat, 
rye,  and  maize  while  yet  the  soil  was  unexhausted.  As  he 
grew  richer  he  sent  one  of  his  sons,  of  whom  he  had  two,  to 
Dartmouth  College,  in  New  Hampshire,  gave  his  farm  to  the 
other,  and,  purchasing  the  homestead  east  of  it,  built  the  house 
in  which  I  passed  my  boyhood. 

My  grandfather  Snell  was  descended  from  Thomas  Snell, 
who  came  over  to  the  Plymouth  Colony  from  England,  in 
what  year  I  cannot  make  out ;  but  it  appears  that  he  settled 
in  Bridge  water  in  1665,  and  is  spoken  of  by  Mitchell,  in  his 
History  of  Bridgewater,  as  probably  the  largest  landholder 
there,  since  Snell's  Plain  and  Snell's  Meadows  are  still  local 
names.  His  son  Josiah  married  Anna  Alden,  a  granddaughter 
of  John  Alden,  who  came  over  in  the  Mayflower  with  the  first 
Pilgrims,  and  of  Priscilla  Mullins,  celebrated  by  Longfellow 
in  his  poem.  This  Anna  Alden  was  a  grandmother  of  my 
grandfather  Snell. 

Squire  Snell,  as  my  grandfather  was  called  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  for  he  was  a  Justice  of  the  Peace,  had  some  remark 
able  pleasantries  of  character.  He  owed  very  little  to  the 


MR.   71 RY ANT'S  EARLY  LI  I- !•:. 

schools,  but  he  employed  a  good  deal  of  his  leisure  in 
mostly  of  religious  books.  The  Calvinistic  denomination  has 
its  subdivisions,  and  he  belonged  to  the  one  founded  by  that  / 
subtle  dialectitian,  Dr.  Samuel  Hopkins,  who  at  that  time  had 
many  disciples  in  the  New  England  churches,  and  who  in 
sisted  that  regeneration  consists  in  the  eradication  of  selfish 
ness  to  such  a  degree  that  the  true  Christian  should  be  willing 
to  suffer  eternal  misery  for  the  good  of  the  whole  universe. 
My  grandfather  was  master  of  the  argument,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  discussed  the  dogma  with  those  who  could  not  receive 
it.  He  was  habitually  devout,  and  had  family  prayers  morn 
ing  and  evening,  such  prayers  as  sixty  or  seventy  years  since 
were  in  vogue  among  the  descendants  of  the  Pilgrims,  who 
culled  from  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  the  poetical  expressions 
with  which  they  abound,  and  used  them  liberally  in  their  de 
votions.  In  this  they  followed  the  example  of  their  ministers, 
who,  however  dry  their  services  might  be,  were  often  poets  in 
their  extempore  prayers.  I  have  often,  in  my  youth,  heard 
from  them  prayers  which  were  poems  from  beginning  to  end, 
mostly  made  up  of  sentences  from  the  Old  Testament  writers. 
How  often  have  I  heard  the  supplication,  "  Let  thy  church 
arise  and  shine  forth,  fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the  sun,  beau 
tiful  as  Tirzah,  comely  as  Jerusalem,  and  terrible  as  an  army 
with  banners."  One  expression  often  in  use  was  peculiarly 
impressive,  and  forcibly  affected  my  childish  imagination. 
"  Let  not  our  feet  stumble  on  the  dark  mountains  of  eternal 
death."  Then  there  was  that  prayer  for  revolution,  handed 
down  probably  from  the  time  of  the  Roundheads.  "And 
wilt  thou  turn,  and  turn,  and  overturn,  till  he  shall  come 
whose  right  it  is  to  reign,  King  of  Nations,  as  now  Kin:;  of 
Saints?" 

Mv  grandfather  Snell  was  not  wanting  in  mother  wit,  and 
anecdotes  of  his  clever  sayings  are  still  preserved  in  the  neigh 
borhood  in  which  he  lived.  On  one  occasion  a  thrifty  farmer, 
not  remarkable  for  good  manners,  said  to  him  : 

"  To-day  I  am  going  to  kill  the  biggest  hog  in  town." 


10  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

"  Hold,  hold  !  "  was  my  grandfather's  answer,  "  don't  talk 
of  self-murder." 

I  remember  one  of  the  students  of  medicine  in  my  father's 
office  telling  my  grandfather  of  a  controversy  carried  on  in 
writing  by  two  persons  in  Cummington  on  the  nature  of  the 
soul. 

"  My  uncle,"  said  the  student,  "  maintains  that  thought  is 
the  soul.  He  says  the  soul  thinks ;  therefore  thought  is  the 
soul." 

"  Poh,  poh  !  "  replied  my  grandfather,  "  the  man  spits,  there 
fore  the  spittle  is  the  man." 

At  one  time  in  a  town  meeting,  when  a  man  who  had  com 
mitted  some  offence  against  the  laws,  for  which  he  had  not 
been  prosecuted,  became  offensively  noisy,  he  put  him  down 
by  saying : 

"  Remember,  sir,  that  the  ears  on  your  head  belong  to  the 
county." 

At  that  time  corporal  punishments  were  still  inflicted  by 
the  courts,  and  for  certain  petty  offences  the  ears  of  the  trans 
gressor  were  cropped.  Flogging  was  also  administered  by 
constables  on  the  sentence  of  a  justice  of  the  peace. 

My  grandfather  once  found  that  certain  pieces  of  lumber 
intended  by  him  for  the  runners  of  a  sled,  and  called  in  that 
part  of  the  country  sled-crooks,  had  been  taken  without  leave 
by  a  farmer  living  at  no  great  distance.  These  timbers  were 
valuable,  being  made  from  a  tree  the  grain  of  which  was 
curved  so  as  to  correspond  with  the  curve  required  in  the 
runners.  The  delinquent  received  notice  that  his  offence  was 
known,  and  that,  if  he  wished  to  escape  a  prosecution,  he  must 
carry  a  bushel  of  rye  to  each  of  three  poor  widows  living  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  tell  her  why  he  brought  it.  He  was 
only  too  glad  to  comply  with  this  condition. 

My  grandmother  Snell,  whose  maiden  name  was  Pack 
ard,  was  a  descendant  of  Samuel  Packard  who  came  over 
from  England  in  the  ship  Diligent  of  Ipswich,  and  settled  in 
Hingham,  Massachusetts,  about  the  year  1738,  whence  he  re- 


.I/A1.   BRYANT'S  EARLY  LITE.  Ir 

moved  to  Bridgewater.  The  family  were  long-lived.  I  re 
member  hearing  her  say  that  her  grandmother  lived  t»>  lin 
age  of  ninety -nine  years.  She  was  of  a  mild,  affectionate  na 
ture,  and  cared  tenderly  for  her  grandchildren.  I  rememl)er 
that  she  often  amused  my  elder  brother  and  myself  by  draw 
ing  figures  with  chalk  on  the  kitchen  floor.  One  of  these  I 
ahvavs  viewed  with  particular  interest,  and  sometimes  teased 
her  to  draw.  It  was  a  human  figure,  but  with  horns  and  clo 
ven  feet  and  a  long  tail.  She  called  it  Old  Crooktail ;  it  was 
evidently  intended  as  a  portrait  of  the  Prince  of  Darkness. 

My  grandfather  on  the  father's  side  was  Dr.  Philip  Bryant, 
of  North  Bridgewater  in  Massachusetts.  lie  was  a  descend 
ant  of  Stephen  Bryant,  who  came  over  from  England  in  the 
infancy  of  the  Plymouth  Colony,  and  in  1643  was  in  Danbury, 
whence  in  1650  he  removed  to  Plymouth.  Dr.  Philip  Bry 
ant  was  his  great  grandson.  My  grandfather  Bryant  studied 
physic  with  Dr.  Abiel  Howard,  of  West  Bridgewater,  whose 
daughter  Silence  he  married.  He  had  a  large  practice  as  a 
physician,  and,  being  an  active,  healthy  man,  of  a  calm  temper 
and  wise  conduct  of  life,  he  lived  to  a  good  old  age,  continu 
ing  to  practice  till  very  shortly  before  his  death,  which  took 
place  in  1816,  when  he  was  in  his  eighty-fifth  year.  His  wife, 
my  grandmother,  and  the  mother  of  his  nine  children,  died  of 
consumption,  after  a  married  life  of  twenty  years,  at  the  age 
of  thirty-nine.  Several  of  her  children — all  the  daughters,  of 
whom  there  were  four — wrote  verses.  One  of  them,  Ruth, 
who  died  of  consumption  at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  composed 
poems  which  were  then  thought  rather  remarkable,  and  I  re 
member  a  little  manuscript  volume  of  them  copied  by  my 
father  in  his  beautiful  handwriting. 

My  great  grandfather,  Dr.  Abiel  Howard,  of  West  Brid-e- 
water,  was  the  first  graduate  of  Harvard  College  from  cither 
of  the  four  Bridgewaters.  He  studied  divinity  and  preached 
awhile,  but,  finding  himself  inclined  to  the  profession  of  medi 
cine,  he  went  through  the  ordinary  course  of  study  and  be 
came  a  physician.  He  was  fond  of  poetry,  wrote  verses,  some 


12  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

of  which  I  have  seen  in  manuscript,  and  had  a  good  library  to 
which  my  father  in  his  youth  had  free  access,  and  where  he 
indulged  that  fondness  for  study  which  continued  through 
life.  Dr.  Howard  was  the  grandson  of  John  Howard,  who 
came  over  from  England  a  very  young  man,  and  lived  for 
some  time  in  the  family  of  Captain  Miles  Standish.  He  was 
one  of  the  earliest  military  officers  in  Bridgewater,  and  a  man 
of  much  influence  in  the  colony.  Dr.  Howard  was  a  man  of 
irritable  temper,  but  the  irritation  soon  passed  off.  A  resident 
of  West  Bridgewater  once  told  me  that  when  a  boy  he  was 
sent  to  call  him  to  one  of  the  family  who  was  taken  ill.  As 
soon  as  he  delivered  his  message  the  Doctor  exclaimed,  "  I 
can't  go,  and  I  won't  go ;  I'm  sick  now,"  and  flung  himself 
into  bed  with  his  boots  on.  After  awhile  he  rose,  mounted 
his  horse,  and  visited  the  patient. 

While  living  at  the  homestead,  I  went  with  my  elder 
brother,  Austin,  to  a  district  school,  kept  in  a  little  house 
which  then  stood  near  by,  on  the  bank  of  the  rivulet  that 
flows  by  the  dwelling.  The  education  which  we  received 
here  was  of  the  humblest  elementary  kind,  stopping  at  gram 
mar,  unless  we  include  theology,  as  learned  from  the  Westmin 
ster  Catechism,  which  was  our  Saturday  exercise.  I  was  an 
excellent,  almost  an  infallible,  speller,  and  ready  in  geography ; 
but  in  the  Catechism,  not  understanding  the  abstract  terms,  I 
made  but  little  progress.  Our  schoolmaster,  who  for  many 
years  was  one  of  the  neighbors,  named  Briggs,  a  kind  and  just 
man,  believed  in  corporal  punishment,  and  carried  a  birchen 
twig,  with  which  he  admonished  those  who  were  idle  or  at 
play  by  a  smart  stroke  over  the  head.  It  was  somewhat 
amusing  to  see  the  delinquent  cringe  and  writhe  as  the  blow 
descended,  but  nobody  dared  to  laugh.  I  got  few  of  these 
reprimands,  being  generally  absorbed  in  my  lessons. 

When  the  scholars  were  let  out  at  noon,  we  amused  our 
selves  with  building  dams  across  the  rivulet,  and  launching 
rafts  made  of  old  boards  on  the  collected  water  ;  and  in  winter, 
with  sliding  on  the  ice  and  building  snow  barricades,  which 


MR.    BRYANT'S  EARLY  LI /•'/•:.  j^ 

we  called  forts,  and,  dividing  the  boys  into  two  armies,  and 
using  snowballs  for  ammunition,  we  contended  for  the  posses 
sion  of  these  strongholds.  I  was  one  of  their  swiftest  runners 
in  the  race,  and  not  inexpert  at  playing  ball,  but,  being  of  a 
slight  frame,  I  did  not  distinguish  myself  in  these  sieges. 

One  of  the  scholars,  a  lad  older  than  myself,  sickened  and 
died,  and  I  went  to  his  funeral.  I  well  recollect  the  awe  and 
silence  of  the  occasion  and  the  strangely  pallid  face  of  the 
dead.  It  was,  I  think,  the  first  time  that  I  ever  looked  upon 
such  a  sight. 

The  boys  of  the  generation  to  which  I  belonged  were  V  \y 
brought  up  under  a  system  of  discipline  which  put  a  far 
greater  distance  between  parents  and  their  children  than  now 
exists.  The  parents  seemed  to  think  this  necessary  in  order 
to  secure  obedience.  They  were  believers  in  the  old  maxim 
that  familiarity  breeds  contempt.  My  grandfather  was  a  dis 
ciplinarian  of  the  stricter  sort,  and  I  can  hardly  find  words  to 
express  the  awe  in  which  I  stood  of  him — an  awe  so  great  as 
almost  to  prevent  anything-  like  affection  on  my  part,  although 
he  was  in  the  main  kind,  and,  certainly,  never  thought  of  being 
severe  beyond  what  was  necessary  to  maintain  a  proper  de 
gree  of  order  in  the  family. 

The  other  boys  in  that  part  of  the  country,  my  school 
mates  and  play-fellows,  were  educated  on  the  same  system. 
Yet  there  were  at  that  time  some  indications  that  this  very 
severe  discipline  was  beginning  to  relax.  With  my  father 
and  mother  I  was  on  much  easier  terms  than  with  my  grand 
father.  If  a  favor  was  to  be  asked  of  my  grandfather,  it  was 
asked  with  fear  and  trembling ;  the  request  was  postponed  to 
the  last  moment,  and  then  made  with  hesitation  and  blushes 
and  a  confused  utterance.* 

One  of  the  means  of  keeping  the  boys  in  order  was  a  little 
bundle  of  birchen  rods,  bound  together  with  a  small  cord,  and 

*  This  part  of  the  autobiography  (pp.  13-20),  Mr.  Bryant  used  in  an  article  on 
The  Boys  of  my  Boyhood,"  which  he  contributed  to  the  "  St.  Nicholas"  magazine 
of  December,  1876. — G. 


14  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

generally  suspended  on  a  nail  against  the  wall  in  the  kitchen. 
This  was  esteemed  as  much  a  part  of  the  necessary  furniture 
as  the  crane  that  hung  in  the  kitchen  fire-place,  or  the  shovel 
and  tongs.  It  sometimes  happened  that  the  boy  suffered  the 
fate  of  the  eagle  in  the  fable,  wounded  by  an  arrow  fledged 
with  a  feather  from  his  own  wing ;  in  other  words,  the  boy 
was  made  to  gather  the  twigs  intended  for  his  own  castiga- 
tion. 

It  has  never  been  quite  clear  to  me  why  the  birch  was 
chosen  above  all  other  trees  of  the  wood  to  yield  its  twigs  for 
this  purpose.  The  beech  of  our  forests  produces  sprays  as 
slender,  as  flexible,  and  as  tough ;  and  farmers,  wherever  the 
beech  is  common,  cut  its  long  and  pliant  branches  for  driving 
oxen.  Yet  the  use  of  birchen  rods  for  the  correction  of  chil 
dren  is  of  very  great  antiquity.  In  his  "  Discourse  on  Forest 
Trees,"  written  three  hundred  years  ago,  Evelyn  speaks  of 
birchen  twigs  as  an  implement  of  the  schoolmaster ;  and  Lou- 
don,  in  his  "  Arboretum,"  goes  further  back.  He  says :  "  The 
birch  has  been  used  as  the  instrument  of  correction  in  schools 
from  the  earliest  ages."  The  English  poets  of  the  last  century 
make  frequent  mention  of  this  use  of  birchen  twigs ;  but  in 
London's  time,  whose  book  was  published  thirty  years  since, 
he  remarks  that  the  use  of  these  rods,  both  in  schools  and  pri 
vate  families,  was  fast  passing  away — a  change  on  which  the 
boys  both  of  England  and  the  United  States  may  well  be  con 
gratulated — for  the  birchen  rod  was,  in  my  time,  even  more 
freely  used  in  the  school  than  in  the  household. 

The  chastisement  which  was  thought  so  wholesome  in  the 
case  of  boys,  was  at  that  time  administered,  for  petty  crimes, 
to  grown-up  persons.  About  a  mile  from  where  I  lived  stood 
a  public  whipping-post,  and  I  remember  seeing  a  young  fel 
low,  of  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  upon  whose  back,  by 
direction  of  a  justice  of  the  peace,  forty  lashes  had  just  been 
laid,  as  the  punishment  for  a  theft  which  he  had  committed. 
His  eyes  were  red,  like  those  of  one  who  had  been  crying,  and 
I  well  remember  the  feeling  of  curiosity,  mingled  with  pity 


J/A\   BRYANT'S  EARLY  LI1-E.  15 

and  fear,  with  which  I  gazed  on  him.  That,  I  think,  was  th<- 
last  example  of  corporal  punishment  inflicted  by  law  in  that 
neighborhood.  The  whipping-post  stood  in  its  place  for  sev 
eral  years  afterward,  the  memorial  of  a  practice  which  had 
passed  away. 

The  awe  in  which  the  boys  of  that  time  held  their  parents 
extended  to  all  elderly  persons,  toward  whom  our  behavior 
was  more  than  merely  respectful,  for  we  all  observed  a  hushed 
and  subdued  demeanor  in  their  presence.  Toward  the  minis 
ters  of  the  gospel  this  behavior  was  particularly  marked.  At 
that  time,  every  township  in  Massachusetts  had  its  minister, 
who  was  settled  there  for  life,  and  when  he  once  came  among 
his  people  was  understood  to  have  entered  into  a  connection 
with  them  scarcely  less  lasting  than  the  marriage  tie.  The 
community  in  which  he  lived  regarded  him  with  great  vener 
ation,  and  the  visits  which  from  time  to  time  he  made  to  the 
district  schools  seemed  to  the  boys  important  occasions,  for 
which  special  preparation  was  made.  When  he  came  to  visit 
the  school  which  I  attended,  we  all  had  on  our  Sunday  clothes, 
and  were  ready  for  him  with  a  few  answers  to  the  questions 
in  the  Westminster  Catechism.  He  heard  us  recite  our  les 
sons,  examined  us  in  the  Catechism,  and  then  began  a  little 
address,  which  was  the  same  on  every  occasion.  1  Ie  told  us 
how  much  greater  were  the  advantages  of  education  which 
we  enjoyed  than  those  which  had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  our  pa 
rents,  and  exhorted  us  to  make  the  best  possible  use  of  them, 
both  for  our  own  sakes  and  that  of  our  parents,  who  were 
ready  to  make  any  sacrifice  for  us,  even  so  far  as  to  take  the 
bread  out  of  their  own  mouths  to  give  us.  I  remember  being 
disgusted  with  this  illustration  of  parental  kindness  which  I 
was  obliged  to  listen  to  twice  at  least  in  every  year. 

The  good  man  had,  perhaps,  less  reason  than  he  supposed 
to  magnify  the  advantages  of  education  enjoyed  in  the  com 
mon   schools   at   that   time.     Reading,   spelling,   writing  and 
arithmetic,  with  a  little  grammar  and  a  little  geography,  \\ 
all  that  was  taught,  and  these  by  persons  much  less  quali- 


1 6  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

fied,  for  the  most  part,  than  those  who  now  give  instruction, 
Those,  however,  who  wished  to  proceed  further  took  lessons 
from  the  graduates  of  the  colleges,  who  were  then  much  more 
numerous  in  proportion  to  the  population  than  they  now  are. 

The  profound  respect  shown  to  the  clergy  in  those  days 
had  this  good  effect — that  wherever  there  was  a  large  con 
course  of  people,  their  presence  prevented  the  occurrence  of 
anything  disorderly  or  unseemly.  The  minister,  therefore, 
made  it  one  of  his  duties  to  be  present  on  those  occasions 
which  brought  people  together  in  any  considerable  numbers. 
His  appearance  had  somewhat  the  effect  which  that  of  a 
policeman  now  has  at  a  public  assembly  in  one  of  our  large 
towns.  At  that  time  there  was  in  each  township  at  least  one 
company  of  militia,  which  was  required  to  hold  several  meet 
ings  in  the  course  of  the  year,  and  at  these  the  minister  was 
always  present.  The  military  parade,  with  the  drums  and 
fifes  and  other  musical  instruments,  was  a  powerful  attraction 
for  the  boys,  who  came  from  all  parts  of  the  neighborhood  to 
the  place  at  which  the  militia  mustered.  But  on  these  occa 
sions  there  was  one  respect  in  which  the  minister's  presence 
proved  but  a  slight  restraint  upon  excess.  There  were  then 
no  temperance  societies,  no  temperance  lecturers  held  forth, 
no  temperance  tracts  were  ever  distributed,  nor  temperance 
pledges  given.  It  was,  to  be  sure,  esteemed  a  shame  to  get 
drunk ;  but,  as  long  as  they  stopped  short  of  this,  people, 
almost  without  exception,  drank  grog  and  punch  freely  with 
out  much  fear  of  a  reproach  from  any  quarter.  Drunkenness, 
however,  in  that  demure  population,  was  not  obstreperous, 
and  the  man  who  was  overtaken  by  it  was  generally  glad  to 
slink  out  of  sight. 

I  remember  an  instance  of  this  kind.  There  had  been  a 
muster  of  a  militia  company  on  the  church  green  for  the  elec 
tion  of  one  of  its  officers,  and  the  person  elected  had  treated 
the  members  of  the  company  and  all  who  were  present  to 
sweetened  rum  and  water,  carried  to  the  green  in  pailfuls, 
with  a  tin  cup  to  each  pail  for  the  convenience  of  drinking. 


MR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  ^ 

The  afternoon  was  far  spent,  and  I  was  going  home  with 
other  boys,  when  we  overtook  a  young  man  who  had  taken 
too  much  of  the  election  toddy,  and,  in  endeavoring  to  go 
quietly  home,  had  got  but  a  little  way  from  the  green,  when 
he  fell  in  a  miry  place,  and  was  surrounded  by  three  or  four 
persons,  who  assisted  in  getting  him  on  his  legs  again.  The 
poor  fellow  seemed  in  great  distress,  and  his  new  nankeen 
pantaloons,  daubed  with  the  mire  of  the  road,  and  his  dang 
ling  limbs,  gave  him  a  most  wretched  appearance.  It  was,  I 
think,  the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  a  drunken  man.  As  I 
approached  to  pass  him  by,  some  of  the  older  boys  said  to  me, 
"  Do  not  go  too  near  him,  for  if  you  smell  a  drunken  man  it 
will  make  you  drunk."  Of  course,  I  kept  at  a  good  distance, 
but  not  out  of  hearing,  for  I  remember  hearing  him  lament  his 
condition  in  these  words :  "  Oh  dear,  I  shall  die !  "  "  Oh  dear, 
I  wish  I  hadn't  drinked  any  !  "  "  Oh  dear,  what  will  my  poor 
Betsy  say  ?  "  What  his  poor  Betsy  said  I  never  heard,  but  I 
saw  him  led  off  in  the  direction  of  his  home,  and  I  continued 
on  my  way  with  the  other  boys,  impressed  with  a  salutary 
horror  of  drunkenness  and  a  fear  of  drunken  men. 

One  of  the  entertainments  of  the  boys  of  my  time  was 
what  were  called  the  "  raisings,"  meaning  the  erection  of  the 
timber  frames  of  houses  or  barns,  to  which  the  boards  were  to 
be  afterward  nailed.  Here  the  minister  made  a  point  of  being 
present,  and  hither  the  able-bodied  men  of  the  neighborhood, 
the  young  men  especially,  were  summoned,  and  took  part  in 
the  work  with  great  alacrity.  It  was  a  spectacle  for  us  next 
to  that  of  a  performer  on  the  tight-rope,  to  see  the  young  men 
walk  steadily  on  the  narrow  footing  of  the  beams  at  a  great 
height  from  the  ground,  or  as  they  stood  to  catch  in  their 
hands  the  wooden  pins  and  the  braces  flung  to  them  from 
below.  They  vied  with  one  another  in  the  dexterity  and  dar 
ing  with  which  they  went  through  with  the  work,  and,  when 
the  skeleton  of  the  building  was  put  together,  some  one 
among  them  generally  capped  the  climax  of  fearless  activity 
by  standing  on  the  ridge-pole  with  his  head  downward  and 

VOL.  I. — 3 


1  8  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

his  heels  in  the  air.  At  that  time,  even  the  presence  of  the 
minister  was  no  restraint  upon  the  flow  of  milk  punch  and 
grog,  which  in  some  cases  was  taken  to  excess.  The  practice 
of  calling  the  neighbors  to  these  "  raisings  "  is  now  discontin 
ued  in  the  rural  neighborhoods  ;  the  carpenters  provide  their 
own  workmen  for  the  business  of  adjusting  the  timbers  of  the 
new  building  to  one  another,  and  there  is  no  consumption  of 


Another  of  the  entertainments  of  rustic  life  was  the  mak 
ing  of  maple  sugar.  This  was  a  favorite  frolic  of  the  boys. 
The  apparatus  for  the  sugar  camp  was  of  a  much  ruder  kind 
than  is  now  used.  The  sap  was  brought  in  buckets  from  the 
wounded  trees  and  poured  into  a  great  caldron  which  hung 
over  a  hot  fire  from  a  stout  horizontal  pole  supported  at  each 
end  by  an  upright  stake  planted  in  the  ground.  Since  that 
time  they  have  built  in  every  maple  grove  a  sugar  house  —  a 
little  building  in  which  the  process  of  making  sugar  is  carried 
on  with  several  ingenious  contrivances  unknown  at  that  time, 
when  everything  was  done  in  the  open  air. 

From  my  father's  door,  in  the  latter  part  of  March  and  the 
early  part  of  April,  we  could  see  perhaps  a  dozen  columns  of 
smoke  rising  over  the  woods  in  different  places  where  the 
work  was  going  on.  After  the  sap  had  been  collected  and 
boiled  for  three  or  four  days,  the  time  came  when  the  thick 
ening  liquid  was  made  to  pass  into  the  form  of  sugar.  This 
was  when  the  sirup  had  become  of  such  a  consistency  that  it 
would  "  feather  "  —  that  is  to  say,  when  a  beechen  twig,  formed 
at  the  small  end  into  a  little  loop,  dipped  into  the  hot  sirup 
and  blown  upon  by  the  breath,  sent  into  the  air  a  light,  feath 
ery  film.  The  huge  caldron  was  then  lifted  from  the  fire,  and 
its  contents  were  either  dipped  out  and  poured  into  molds,  or 
stirred  briskly  till  the  sirup  cooled  and  took  the  form  of  ordi 
nary  brown  sugar  in  loose  grains.  This  process  was  exceed 
ingly  interesting  to  the  boys  who  came  to  watch  its  different 
stages  and  to  try  from  time  to  time  the  sirup  as  it  thickened. 

In  autumn,  the  task  of  stripping  the  husks  from  the  ears 


MR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  lg 

of  Indian  corn  was  made  the  occasion  of  social  meetings,  in 
which  the  boys  took  a  special  part.  A  farmer  would  appoint 
what  was  called  "  a  husking,"  to  which  he  invited  his  neighbors. 
The  ears  of  maize  in  the  husk,  sometimes  along  with  part  of 
the  stalk,  were  heaped  on  the  barn  floor.  In  the  evening  lan 
terns  were  brought,  and,  seated  on  piles  of  dry  husks,  the  men 
and  boys  stripped  the  ears  of  their  covering,  and,  breaking 
them  from  the  stem  with  a  sudden  jerk,  threw  them  into  bas 
kets  placed  for  the  purpose.  It  was  often  a  merry  time  ;  the 
gossip  of  the  neighborhood  was  talked  over,  stories  were  told, 
jests  went  round,  and  at  the  proper  hour  the  assembly  ad 
journed  to  the  dwelling-house  and  were  treated  to  pumpkin- 
pie  and  cider,  which  in  that  season  had  not  been  so  long  from 
the  press  as  to  have  parted  with  its  sweetness. 

Quite  as  cheerful  were  the  "  apple-parings,"  which  on  au 
tumn  evenings  brought  together  the  young  people  of  both 
sexes  in  little  circles.  The  fruit  of  the  orchards  was  pared 
and  quartered  and  the  core  extracted,  and  a  supply  of  apples 
in  this  state  provided  for  making  what  was  called  "apple 
sauce,"  a  kind  of  preserve  of  which  every  family  laid  in  a 
large  quantity  every  year. 

The  cider-making  season  in  autumn  was  somewhat  corre 
spondent  to  the  vintage  in  the  wine  countries  of  Europe. 
Large  tracts  of  land  in  New  England  were  overshadowed  by 
rows  of  apple-trees,  and  in  the  month  of  May  a  journey 
through  that  region  was  a  journey  through  a  wilderness  of 
bloom.  In  the  month  of  October  the  whole  population  was 
busy  gathering  apples  under  the  trees,  from  which  they  fell 
in  heavy  showers  as  the  branches  were  shaken  by  the  strong 
arms  of  the  farmers.  The  creak  of  the  cider  mill,  turned  by  a 
horse  moving  in  a  circle,  was  heard  in  every  neighborhood  as 
one  of  the  most  common  of  rural  sounds.  The  freshly  pressed 
juice  of  the  apples  was  most  agreeable  to  boyish  tastes,  and 
the  whole  process  of  gathering  the  fruit  and  making  the  cider 
came  in  among  the  more  laborious  rural  occupations  in  a  way 
which  diversified  them  pleasantly,  and  which  made  it  seem  a 


20  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

pastime.  The  time  that  was  given  to  making  cider,  and  the 
number  of  barrels  made  and  stored  in  the  cellars  of  the  farm 
houses,  would  now  seem  incredible.  A  hundred  barrels  to  a 
single  farm  was  no  uncommon  proportion,  and  the  quantity 
swallowed  by  the  men  of  that  day  led  to  the  habits  of  intem 
perance  which  at  length  alarmed  the  more  thoughtful  part 
of  the  community,  and  gave  occasion  to  the  formation  of  tem 
perance  societies  and  the  introduction  of  better  habits. 

From  time  to  time  the  winter  evenings,  and  occasionally  a 
winter  afternoon,  brought  the  young  people  of  the  parish  to 
gether  in  attendance  upon  a  singing  school.  Some  person 
who  possessed  more  than  common  power  of  voice,  and  skill  in 
modulating  it,  was  employed  to  teach  psalmody,  and  the  boys 
were  naturally  attracted  to  his  school  as  a  recreation.  It  often 
happened  that  the  teacher  was  an  enthusiast  in  his  vocation, 
and  thundered  forth  the  airs  set  down  in  the  music  books  with 
a  fervor  that  was  contagious.  A  few  of  those  who  attempted 
to  learn  psalmody  were  told  that  they  had  no  aptitude  for  the 
art,  and  were  set  aside,  but  that  did  not  prevent  their  attend 
ance  as  hearers  of  the  others.  In  those  days  a  set  of  tunes 
were  in  fashion  mostly  of  New  England  origin,  which  have 
since  been  laid  aside  in  obedience  to  a  more  fastidious  taste. 
They  were  in  quick  time,  sharply  accented,  the  words  clearly 
articulated,  and  often  running  into  fugues,  in  which  the  bass, 
the  tenor,  and  the  treble  chased  each  other  from  the  middle 
to  the  end  of  the  stanza.  I  recollect  that  some  impatience 
was  manifested  when  slower  and  graver  airs  of  church, music 
were  introduced  by  the  choir,  and  I  wondered  why  the  words 
should  not  be  sung  in  the  same  time  that  they  were  pro 
nounced  in  reading. 

The  streams  which  bickered  through  the  narrow  glens  of 
the  region  in  which  I  lived  were  much  better  stocked  with 
trout  in  those  days  than  now,  for  the  country  had  been  newly 
opened  to  settlement.  The  boys  all  were  anglers.  I  confess 
to  having  felt  a  strong  interest  in  that  "  sport,"  as  I  no  longer 
call  it.  I  have  long  since  been  weaned  from  the  propensity  of 


MR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  2\ 

which  I  speak ;  but  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  instinct  which 
inclines  so  many  to  it,  and  some  of  them  our  grave  divines, 
is  a  remnant  of  the  original  wild  nature  of  man.  Another 
"  sport,"  to  which  the  young  men  of  the  neighborhood  some 
times  admitted  the  elder  boys,  was  the  autumnal  squirrel  hunt. 
The  young  men  formed  themselves  into  two  parties  equal  in 
numbers,  and  fixed  a  day  for  the  shooting.  The  party  which 
on  that  day  brought  down  the  greatest  number  of  squirrels 
was  declared  the  victor,  and  the  contest  ended  with  some  sort 
of  festivity  in  the  evening. 

I  have  not  mentioned  other  sports  and  games  of  the  boys 
of  that  day,  such  as  wrestling,  running,  leaping,  base-ball,  and 
the  like,  for  in  these  there  was  nothing  to  distinguish  them 
from  the  same  pastimes  at  the  present  day.  There  were  no 
public  lectures  at  that  time  on  subjects  of  general  interest; 
the  profession  of  public  lecturer  was  then  unknown,  and  emi 
nent  men  were  not  solicited,  as  they  now  are,  to  appear  before 
audiences  in  distant  parts  of  the  country  and  gratify  the  curi 
osity  of  strangers  by  letting  them  hear  the  sound  of  their 
voices.  But  the  men  of  those  days  were  far  more  given  to 
attendance  on  public  worship  than  those  who  now  occupy 
their  places,  and  of  course  they  took  their  boys  with  them. 
They  were  not  satisfied  with  the  morning  and  afternoon  ser 
vices,  but  each  neighborhood  held  a  third  service  of  its  own 
in  the  evening.  Here  some  lay  brother  made  a  prayer,  hymns 
were  sung  by  those  who  were  trained  at  the  singing  schools, 
a  sermon  was  read  from  the  works  of  some  orthodox  divine, 
and  now  and  then  a  word  of  exhortation  was  addressed  to  the 
little  assembly  by  some  one  who  was  more  fluent  in  speech 
than  the  rest. 

Every  parish  had  its  tything-men,  two  in  number  gener 
ally,  whose  business  it  was  to  maintain  order  in  the  church 
during  divine  service,  and  who  sat  with  a  stern  countenance 
through  the  sermon,  keeping  a  vigilant  eye  on  the  boys  in  the 
distant  pews  and  in  the  galleries.  Sometimes,  when  he  de 
tected  two  of  them  communicating  with  each  other,  he  went 


22  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

to  one  of  them,  took  him  by  the  button,  and,  leading  him  away, 
seated  him  beside  himself.  His  power  extended  to  other  de 
linquencies.  He  was  directed  by  law  to  see  that  the  Sabbath 
was  not  profaned  by  people  wandering  in  the  fields  and  ang 
ling  in  the  brooks.  At  that  time  a  law,  no  longer  in  force, 
directed  that  any  person  who  absented  himself  unnecessarily 
from  public  worship  for  a  certain  length  of  time  should  pay  a 
fine  into  the  treasury  of  the  county.  I  remember  several  per 
sons  of  whom  it  was  said  that  they  had  been  compelled  to  pay 
this  fine,  but  I  do  not  remember  any  of  them  who  went  to 
church  afterward. 

In  my  ninth  year  I  began  to  make  verses,  some  of  which 
were  utter  nonsense.  My  father  ridiculed  them,  and  endeav 
ored  to  teach  me  to  write  only  when  I  had  something  to  say. 
A  year  or  two  later  my  grandfather  gave  me  as  an  exercise 
the  first  chapter  of  the  Book  of  Job  to  turn  into  verse.  I  put 
the  whole  narration  into  heroic  couplets,  one  of  which  I  re 
member,  as  the  first  draught. 

"  His  name  was  Job,  evil  he  did  eschew, 
To  him  were  born  seven  sons  ;  three  daughters  too." 

My  father  did  not  allow  this  doggerel  to  stand,  but  I  for 
get  what  I  put  in  its  place.*  For  this  task  I  was  rewarded 
with  the  small  Spanish  coin  then  called  a  ninepenny  piece.  I 
paraphrased  afterwards  the  Hundred  and  Fourth  Psalm.  In 

*  Mr.  Bryant  had  forgotten  this  ;  but  among  his  papers  was  found  the  following, 
which  is  probably  a  part  of  his  amended  version  : 

"  Job»  Sood  and  Just>  in  Uz  had  sojourned  long, 
He  feared  his  God  and  shunned  the  way  of  wrong. 
Three  were  his  daughters,  and  his  sons  were  seven, 
And  large  the  wealth  bestowed  on  him  by  heaven. 
Seven  thousand  sheep  were  in  his  pastures  fed, 
Three  thousand  camels  by  his  train  were  led  ; 
For  him  the  yoke  a  thousand  oxen  wore, 
Five  hundred  she  asses  his  burdens  bore. 
His  household  to  a  mighty  host  increased, 
The  greatest  man  was  Job  in  all  the  East."  — G. 


AfR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  23 

the  spring  of  1804,  when  I  was  ten  years  old,  I  composed  a 
little  poem,  the  subject  of  which  was  the  description  of  the 
school,  and  which  I  declaimed  on  the  schoolroom  floor.  It 
was  afterward  printed  in  the  "  Hampshire  Gazette,"  the  county 
newspaper  published  at  Northampton.  Meantime  I  wrote 
various  lampoons  on  my  schoolfellows  and  others,  and  when 
the  great  eclipse  of  the  sun  took  place,  in  June,  1806,  I  cele 
brated  the  event  in  verse.  I  remember  being  told  about  this 
time  that  my  father  had  said,  "  He  will  be  ashamed  of  his 
verses  when  he  is  grown  up."  I  could  not  then  see  why.* 

*  As  many  readers  will,  doubtless,  be  amused  by  this  childish  effort  at  the  de 
scription  of  a  great  natural  phenomenon,  I  append  it : 

"  How  awfully  sublime  and  grand  to  see, 
The  lamp  of  Day  wrap'ed  in  Obscurity. 
To  see  the  sun  remove  behind  the  moon, 
And  nightly  darkness  shroud  the  day  at  noon  ; 
The  birds  no  longer  feel  his  genial  ray, 
But  cease  to  sing  and  sit  upon  the  spray. 
A  solemn  gloom  and  stillness  spreads  around, 
Reigns  in  the  air  and  broods  o'er  all  the  ground. 
Once-smiling  Nature  wears  another  face, 
The  blooming  meadow  loses  half  its  grace. 
All  things  are  silent  save  the  chilling  breeze, 
That  in  low  whispers  rustles  through  the  trees. 
The  stars  break  forth  and  stud  the  azure  sky, 
And  larger  planets  meet  the  wondering  eye. 
Now  busy  man  leaves  off  his  toil  to  gaze, 
And  some  are  struck  with  horror  and  amaze, 
Others  of  noble  feelings  more  refin'd 
Serenely  view  it  with  a  tranquil  mind. 
See  God's  bright  image  strikingly  portrayed 
In  each  appearance  which  his  power  had  made. 
(Fixed  in  their  hearts  cool  Meditation  sate, 
With  uprais'd  eye  and  thoughtful  look  sedate.) 
Now  burst  the  Sun  from  silence  and  from  night, 
Though  few  his  beams,  they  shed  a  welcome  light ; 
And  Nature's  choir,  enlivened  by  his  rays, 
Harmonious  warble  their  Creator's  praise. 
The  shades  of  darkness  feel  his  potent  ray, 
Mine  eye  pursue  them  as  they  flee  away  ; 


24  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

As  soon  as  I  was  able  to  handle  the  lighter  implements  of 
agriculture  I  was  employed  in  the  summer  season  in  farm 
work,  under  the  tuition  of  my  grandfather  Snell,  who  taught 
me  to  plant  and  hoe  corn  and  potatoes,  to  rake  hay  and  reap 
wheat  and  oats  with  the  sickle,  for  wheat  was  then  raised  in 
Cummington,  and  the  machine  called  the  cradle  had  not  yet 
come  into  general  use.  In  raking  hay  my  grandfather  put  me 
before  him,  and,  if  I  did  not  make  speed  enough  to  keep  out 
of  his  way,  the  teeth  of  his  rake  touched  my  heels.  I  became 
tolerably  expert  in  these  occupations,  but  I  never  fully  learned 
the  use  of  the  scythe,  having  left  the  farm  before  I  had  suffi 
cient  strength  to  wield  it. 

My  health  was  rather  delicate  from  infancy  and  easily  dis 
turbed.  Sometimes  the  tasks  of  the  farm  were  too  great  for 
my  strength,  and  brought  on  a  sick  headache,  which  was  re 
lieved  under  my  father's  directions  by  taking  a  little  soda  dis 
solved  in  water.  I  was  also  subject  to  frequent  and  severe 
attacks  of  colic,  which  I  discovered  afterwards  to  have  been 
caused  by  the  use  of  pewter  vessels  for  culinary  purposes, 
which  was  then  very  common.  When  they  were  no  longer 
used,  I  had  no  more  of  these  attacks. 

So  my  time  passed  in  study,  diversified  with  labor  and 
recreation.  In  the  long  winter  evenings  and  the  stormy  win 
ter  days  I  read,  with  my  elder  brother,  books  from  my  father's 
library — not  a  large  one,  but  well  chosen.  I  remember  well 
the  delight  with  which  we  welcomed  the  translation  of  the 
Iliad,  by  Pope,  when  it  was  brought  into  the  house.  I  had 
met  with  passages  from  it  before,  and  thought  them  the  finest 
verses  that  ever  were  written.  My  brother  and  myself,  in 
emulation  of  the  ancient  heroes,  made  for  ourselves  wooden 
shields,  swords,  and  spears,  and  fashioned  old  hats  in  the 

So  from  the  greyhound  flies  the  tim'rous  hare, 

Swift  as  a  dart  divides  the  yielding  air." 

This  is  inscribed  in  the  boy's  handwriting:  "Written  by  W.  C.  Bryant,  just  after 
the  great  total  Eclipse  of  the  Sun,  in  the  summer  of  the  year  1806 — in  his  twelfth 
year." — G. 


MR.  fiRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  2$ 

shape  of  helmets,  with  plumes  of  tow,  and  in  the  barn,  when 
nobody  observed  us,  we  fought  the  battles  of  the  Greeks  and 
Trojans  over  again.  I  was  always  from  my  earliest  ye 
delighted  observer  of  external  nature — the  splendors  of  a 
winter  daybreak  over  the  wide  wastes  of  snow  seen  from  our 
windows,  the  glories  of  the  autumnal  woods,  the  gloomy 
approaches  of  the  thunderstorm,  and  its  departure  amid  sun 
shine  and  rainbows,  the  return  of  spring,  with  its  flowers,  and 
the  first  snowfall  of  winter.  The  poets  fostered  this  taste  in 
me,  and  though  at  that  time  I  rarely  heard  such  things  spoken 
of,  it  was  none  the  less  cherished  in  my  secret  mind.  Mean 
time  the  school  which  I  attended  was  removed  to  the  distance 
of  a  mile  and  a  quarter  from  our  dwelling,  and  to  it  in  winter 
we  went  often  across  the  fields  over  the  snow — when  it  was 
firm  enough  to  bear  us  without  breaking  the  glazed  surface. 
Then  the  coming  and  going  was  a  joyous  pastime. 

I  cannot  say,  as  some  do,  that  I  found  my  boyhood  the 
happiest  part  of  my  life.  I  had  more  frequent  ailments  than 
afterward,  my  hopes  were  more  feverish  and  impatient,  and 
my  disappointments  were  more  acute.  The  restraints  on  my 
liberty  of  action,  although  meant  for  my  good,  were,  irksome, 
and  felt  as  fetters,  that  galled  my  spirit  and  gave  it  pain.  Af 
ter  years,  if  their  pleasures  had  not  the  same  zest,  were  passed 
in  more  contentment,  and,  the  more  freedom  of  choice  I  had, 
the  better,  on  the  whole,  I  enjoyed  life. 

In  those  days  the  seasons  of  religious  excitement,  then 
sometimes  called  awakenings,  but  now  revivals  of  religion, 
were  of  a  more  sensational  character,  so  to  speak,  than  at 
present.  There  occurred  one  of  them  about  this  time  in  Cum- 
mington  and  its  neighborhood.  The  principal  topic  dwelt 
upon  by  the  preachers  and  exhorters  at  these  seasons  was  the 
doom  of  the  wicked,  which  was  set  forth  in  the  strongest 
terms  that  their  rhetoric  could  supply.  Prayer  meetings  and 
meetings  for  exhortation  were  held  almost  daily,  especially  in 
the  winter  time.  The  newly  converted  stood  forth,  and  with 
passionate  earnestness  entreated  their  hearers  to  seize  the  op- 


26  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

portunity  of  mercy,  and  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.  I  saw, 
at  this  time,  women  falling  to  the  floor,  "  struck  down  "  under 
conviction,  as  the  phrase  was,  and  lying  for  a  time  apparently 
unconscious  of  everything  that  was  passing  around  them.  I 
saw  men  wringing  their  hands  in  despair.  In  many  instances 
this  state  of  depression  was  followed  by  a  sudden  revulsion  of 
feeling ;  a  mood  of  gladness  from  which  its  subject  dated  his 
new  birth,  and  in  which  his  heart  overflowed  with  love  to 
God  and  to  his  fellow-creatures.  He  was  then  said  to  be 
"  brought  out."  A  considerable  number  of  admissions  to  the 
church — our  minister  was  of  the  Congregational  denomination 
— followed  the  revival.  On  these  occasions  were  read  the 
"  relations  "  of  the  candidates  for  admission,  little  manuscript 
histories  of  their  spiritual  experience.  Our  pastor  was  pru 
dent  enough  to  wait  a  few  months  after  a  reputed  conversion 
before  accepting  the  candidate  as  a  church  member,  for  it  not 
infrequently  happened  that  relapses  took  place,  and  that  those 
who  were  reprobates  before  the  awakening  returned  to  their 
old  ways.  Others  remained  constant  to  their  new  impressions. 
In  a  community  so  religious  I  naturally  acquired  habits  of 
devotion.  My  mother  and  grandmother  had  taught  me,  as 
soon  as  I  could  speak,  the  Lord's  Prayer  and  other  little  peti 
tions  suited  to  childhood,  and  I  may  be  said  to  have  been  nur 
tured  on  Watts'  devout  poems  composed  for  children.  The 
prayer  of  the  publican  in  the  New  Testament  was  often  in  my 
mouth,  and  I  heard  every  variety  'of  prayer  at  the  Sunday 
evening  services  conducted  by  laymen  in  private  houses.  But 
I  varied  in  my  private  devotions  from  these  models,  in  one 
respect,  namely,  in  supplicating,  as  I  often  did,  that  I  might 
receive  the  gift  of  poetic  genius,  and  write  verses  that  might 
endure.  I  presented  this  petition  in  those  early  years  with 
great  fervor,  but  after  a  time  I  discontinued  the  practice ;  I 
can  hardly  say  why.  As  a  general  rule,  whatever  I  might 
innocently  wish  I  did  not  see  why  I  should  not  ask ;  and  I 
was  a  firm  believer  in  the  efficacy  of  prayer.  The  Calvinistic 
system,  of  divinity  I  adopted,  of  course,  as  I  heard  nothing 


BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIJ-J-.  2/ 

else  taught  from  the  pulpit,  and  supposed  it  to  be  the  accepted 
belief  of  the  religious  world. 

In  February,  1808,  General  Woodbridge,  of  Worthington, 
a  place  about  four  miles  distant  from  our  dwelling,  died.  He 
was  a  promising  and  popular  lawyer,  held  in  high  esteem  by 
the  Federal  party,  to  which  he  belonged,  and  was  much  la 
mented.  My  father  suggested  this  event  as  a  subject  for  a 
monody.  I  composed  one  beginning  with  these  lines : 

"  The  word  is  given,  the  cruel  arrow  flies 
With  death-foreboding  aim,  and  Woodbridge  dies. 
Lo !  Hampshire's  genius,  bending  o'er  his  bier, 
In  silent  sorrow  heaves  the  sigh  sincere ; 
Loose  to  the  wind  her  hair  dishevelled  flies 
And  falling  tear-drops  glisten  in  her  eyes." 

The  rest  of  the  poem  was  very  much  like  this.  My  father 
read  it,  and  told  me  that  it  was  nothing  but  tinsel  and  would 
not  do.  There  were  only  four  lines  among  all  that  I  had  writ 
ten  which  he  would  allow  to  be  tolerable. 

About  this  time  the  animosity  with  which  the  two  political 
parties — the  Federalists  and  the  Republicans,  as  they  called 
themselves — regarded  each  other  was  at  its  height.  There 
was  scarcely  anything  too  bad  for  each  party  to  say  of  the 
other.  My  father  was  a  Federalist,  and  his  skill  in  his  profes 
sion  gave  him  great  influence  in  Cummington  and  the  neigh 
boring  country.  Accordingly  the  Federalists  had  a  consider 
able  majority  in  Cummington,  and  by  them  he  was  elected 
for  several  successive  years  as  their  representative  to  the  Gen 
eral  Court  or  Legislature  of  the  State  of  Massachusetts.  I 
read  the  newspapers  of  the  Federal  party,  and  took  a  strong 
interest  in  political  questions.  Under  Mr.  Jefferson's  adminis 
tration,  in  consequence  of  our  disputes  with  Great  Britain,  an 
embargo  was  laid  in  1807  upon  all  the  ports  of  our  republic, 
which,  by  putting  a  stop  to  all  foreign  commerce,  had  a  disas 
trous  effect  upon  many  private  interests,  and  embittered  the 
hatred  with  which  the  Federalists  regarded  their  political  ad- 


28  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

versaries,  and  particularly  Mr.  Jefferson.  I  had  written  some 
satirical  lines  apostrophizing  the  President,  which  my  father 
saw,  and,  thinking  well  of  them,  encouraged  me  to  write  oth 
ers  in  the  same  vein.  This  I  did  willingly,  until  the  addition 
grew  into  a  poem  of  several  pages,  in  the  midst  of  which  the 
lines  of  which  I  have  spoken  took  their  place.  The  poem  was 
published  at  Boston  in  1808,  in  a  little  pamphlet  entitled,  "The 
Embargo ;  or,  Sketches  of  the  Times,  A  Satire ;  by  a  Youth 
of  Thirteen."  It  had  the  honor  of  being  kindly  noticed  in  the 
"  Monthly  Anthology,"  a  literary  periodical  published  in  Bos 
ton,  which  quoted  from  it  the  paragraph  that  had  attracted 
my  father's  attention. 

It  was  decided  that  I  should  receive  a  college  education, 
and  I  was  accordingly  taken  by  my  father  to  the  house  of  my 
mother's  brother,  the  Reverend  Dr.  Thomas  Snell,  in  North 
Brookfield,  to  begin  the  study  of  Latin.  My  uncle  was  a  man 
of  fine  personal  appearance  and  great  dignity  of  character  and 
manner,  the  slightest  expression  of  whose  wish  had  all  the 
force  of  command.  He  was  a  rigid  moralist,  who  never  held 
parley  with  wrong  in  any  form,  and  was  an  enemy  of  every 
kind  of  equivocation.  As  a  theologian  he  was  trained  in  the 
school  of  Dr.  Hopkins,  which  then,  I  think,  included  most  of 
the  country  ministers  of  the  Congregational  Church  in  Massa 
chusetts.  My  aunt,  his  wife,  was  a  lady  of  graceful  manners 
and  gentle  deportment.  There  were  two  children,  of  amiable 
dispositions,  a  son  and  a  daughter,  the  son  now  a  valued  pro 
fessor  in  Amherst  College,  and  the  daughter,  now  living  in  a 
Northwestern  State,  a  lady  scarce  less  remarkable,  I  am  told, 
for  dignity  of  manner,  than  her  father.  I  had  a  little  qualm  of 
homesickness  at  first,  but  it  soon  passed  away  as  I  became  in 
terested  in  my  studies,  in  which  my  progress  was,  I  believe, 
more  rapid  than  usual.  I  began  with  the  Latin  grammar, 
went  through  the  Colloquies  of  Corderius,  in  which  the 
words,  for  the  ease  of  the  learner,  were  arranged  according  to 
the  English  order,  and  then  entered  upon  the  New  Testament 
in  Latin.  Once,  while  reciting  my  daily  lesson  to  my  uncle, 


AfR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  2g 


he  happened  to  turn  to  a  part  of  the  volume  several  pa^es  be 
yond  where  I  had  been  studying.  He  read  the  text  ;  1  gave 
the  English  translation  correctly,  answered  all  his  questions 
respecting  the  syntax,  and  applied  the  rules.  He  then  per 
ceived  that  the  passage  before  him  was  not  the  one  I  had 
studied,  and,  laying  aside  the  book,  immediately  put  me  into 
the  ^Eneid  of  Virgil,  which  I  found  much  more  difficult,  re 
quiring  all  my  attention. 

While  I  was  occupied  with  the  JEneid,  my  father  wrote  to 
me  advising  me  to  translate  some  portion  of  it  into  English 
verse.  Accordingly  I  made  a  rhymed  translation  of  the  nar 
rative  of  a  tempest  in  the  first  book  and  sent  it  to  my  father, 
but  got  no  commendation  in  return.  I  had  aimed  to  be  faith 
ful  to  the  original,  but  the  lines  were  cramped  and  the  phrase 
ology  clumsy.  I  wrote  rather  better  when  I  had  no  original 
to  follow.  Somebody  showed  me  a  piece  of  paper,  with  the 
title  "The  Endless  Knot,"  the  representation  of  an  intricate 
knot  in  parallel  lines,  between  which  were  written  some  home 
ly  verses.  I  thought  that  I  could  write  better  ones,  and,  my 
head  being  full  of  the  ancient  mythology,  I  composed  these  : 

So  seemed  the  Cretan  labyrinth  of  old, 
Maze  within  maze,  in  many  a  winding  fold. 
Deep  in  those  convoluted  paths  in  vain 
The  wretched  captive  sought  the  day  again, 
But,  lost  and  wearied  with  the  devious  way, 
Fell  to  the  monster  bull  a  helpless  prey 
Till  Ariadne  lent  the  guiding  thread 
That  back  to  life  the  Athenian  hero  led. 
Thus,  round  and  round,  with  intricate  design, 
These  snaky  walks  in  endless  mystery  twine  ; 
Yet  here  no  danger  lurks,  no  murderous  power 
Waits  the  pale  victim,  ready  to  devour. 
Our  hands  in  turn  bestow  the  friendly  clue  ; 
Pursue  our  verse,  our  verse  shall  guide  you  through. 

One  day  my  uncle  brought  home  a  quarto  volume,  the 
"  Life  of  Sir  William  Jones,"  by  Lord  Teignmouth,  which  he 


30  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

had  borrowed,  as  I  imagine,  expressly  for  my  reading.  I 
read  it  with  great  interest,  and  was  much  impressed  with  the 
extensive  scholarship  and  other  literary  accomplishments  of 
Sir  William.  I  am  pretty  sure  that  his  example  made  me 
afterward  more  diligent  in  my  studies,  and  I  think  also  that  it 
inclined  me  to  the  profession  of  the  law  which  in  due  time  I 
embraced.  I  recollect  that  a  clergyman,  from  a  neighboring 
parish,  who  came  to  exchange  pulpits  with  my  uncle,  observ 
ing  me  occupied  with  the  book,  kindly  said  to  me :  "  You 
have  only  to  be  as  diligent  in  your  studies  as  that  great  man 
was,  and,  in  time,  you  may  write  as  fine  verses  as  he  did." 

In  a  closet  of  the  room  where  I  studied,  I  found  a  copy  of 
Mrs.  Radcliffe's  "  Romance  of  the  Forest,"  which  I  began  to 
read  with  an  interest  that  grew  stronger  as  I  proceeded.  My 
uncle  found  me  with  the  book  in  my  hands,  and  advised  me 
not  to  go  on  with  it.  "  These  works,"  he  said,  "  have  an  un 
wholesome  influence.  They  are  written  in  an  interesting 
manner ;  they  absorb  the  attention,  and  divert  the  mind  from 
objects  of  greater  importance."  The  book,  however,  was  left 
within  my  reach.  For  some  days  I  did  not  take  it  up,  but  my 
curiosity  had  been  so  strongly  excited  that  I  could  not  long 
refrain,  and  again  began  to  read  it.  I  was  observed,  and  the 
book  disappeared.  When,  not  many  years  afterward,  the 
"  Romance  of  the  Forest "  came  in  my  way,  the  first  thing  I 
did  was  to  read  it  through. 

While  I  was  at  my  uncle's,  in  1809,  another  edition  of  my 
poem,  "  The  Embargo,"  was  published  at  Boston.  It  had 
been  revised  and  somewhat  enlarged,  and  a  few  shorter  poems 
were  added. 

I  went  through  the  JEneid  in  my  Latin  studies,  and  then 
mastered  the  Eclogues  and  the  Georgics,  after  which  my 
uncle  put  into  my  hands  a  volume  of  the  select  Orations  of 
Cicero.  While  I  was  engaged  with  these,  he  once  asked  me 
which  I  liked  better,  Virgil  or  Cicero.  I  frankly  gave  the  pref 
erence  to  Virgil,  on  which,  without  directly  controverting  my 
preference,  he  pointed  out  some  of  the  excellences  of  Cicero's 


MR.  BRYANTS  EARLY  LIFT..  3I 

compositions,  such  as  the  solidity  of  the  reflect  ions,  their  ap 
plication  to  the  realities  of  life,  and  the  constant  refeivn 
everything  to  the  principles  of  justice. 

I  had  occasionally  a  fellow-student  or  two  who  came  to 
the  house  for  the  benefit  of  my  uncle's  instructions.  Among 
these  was  Amasa  Walker,  since  a  professor  in  Oberlin  Col- 
lege,  and  well  known  for  his  able  works  on  political  economy. 

As  the  spring  came  on,  I  wandered  about  the  fields  and 
meadows,  where  I  missed  some  of  the  early  flowers  of  the 
highland  country  in  which  I  was  born,  and  admired  others 
new  to  me.  The  hickory,  the  oak,  and  the  chestnut  trees,  as 
they  put  forth  their  young  leaves,  were  new  acquaintances  to 
me.  As  the  summer  came  on,  my  attention  was  attracted  to 
an  elegant  plant  of  the  meadows — a  wild  lily — with  whorls  of 
leaves  surrounding  the  stem.  I  watched  impatiently  the  un 
folding  of  its  flower-buds,  in  hope  that  I  might  see  it  in  bloom 
before  I  went  back  to  Cummington,  but  in  this  I  was  disap 
pointed. 

While  at  my  uncle's  my  constitution  seemed  to  have  un 
dergone  a  favorable  change.  I  had  been  subject,  as  I  have 
already  mentioned,  to  frequent  and  severe  headaches,  some 
times  taking  the  form  of  sick  headache,  after  eating  gross  food 
or  taking  immoderate  exercise.  These  now  left  me  entirely, 
and  through  a  long  life — I  am  now  in  my  eightieth  year — my 
head  has  never  ached  since.  Though  my  health  was  delicate, 
the  diseases  of  childhood — the  measles,  the  mumps,  and  the 
whooping-cough — visited  me  lightly — the  scarlet  fever  I  never 
had.  My  father  was  one  of  the  first  to  introduce  vaccination 
in  Western  Massachusetts.  I  was  made  to  take  the  infection, 
but,  though  the  pustule  was  perfectly  formed,  I  was  scarcely 
indisposed  in  consequence. 

In  the  beginning  of  July,  1809,  having  read  through  the 
volume  of  Cicero's  Orations,  I  left  the  excellent  family  of  my 
uncle,  where  I  had  been  surrounded  by  the  most  wholesome 
influences  and  examples,  and  returned  to  Cummington,  after 
an  absence  of  just  eight  calendar  months.  I  was  welcomed 


32  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

by  my  four  brothers  and  two  sisters,  all  born  before  I  went  to 
North  Brookfield — the  youngest  a  boy  two  years  old — and  a 
lively  house  they  made  of  it.  They  had  all  grown,  of  course, 
during  my  absence,  but  I  well  remember  that,  as  much  as  they 
had  grown,  the  house  and  its  surroundings  seemed  to  have 
diminished.  The  parlor,  the  kitchen,  my  father's  office,  all 
seemed  to  have  shrunk  from  their  former  dimensions ;  the 
ceilings  seemed  lower,  the  fields  around  seemed  of  less  extent, 
the  trees  less  tall,  and  the  little  brook  that  ran  near  the  house 
gurgled  with  a  slenderer  current. 

I  took  my  place  with  the  haymakers  on  the  farm,*  and  did, 
I  believe,  my  part  until  the  28th  of  August,  1 809,  when  I  went 
to  begin  my  studies  in  Greek  with  the  Reverend  Moses  Hal- 
lock,  in  the  neighboring  township  of  Plainfield,  where  he  was 
the  minister.  He  was  somewhat  famous  for  preparing  youths 
for  college,  and  his  house  was  called  by  some  the  bread  and 
milk  college,  for  the  reason  that  bread  and  milk  was  a  fre 
quent  dish  at  the  good  man's  table.  And  a  good  man  he 
really  was,  kind  and  gentle,  and  of  the  most  scrupulous  con 
scientiousness.  "  I  value  Mr.  Hallock,"  my  grandfather  used 
to  say,  "his  life  is  so  exemplary."  He  was  paid  a  dollar  a 
week  for  my  board  and  instruction.  "  I  can  afford  it  for  that," 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  saying,  "  and  it  would  not  be  honest  to 
take  more." 

I  committed  to  memory  the  declensions  and  the  conjuga 
tions  of  the  Greek  tongue,  with  the  rules  of  syntax,  and  then 
began  reading  the  New  Testament  in  Greek,  taking  first  the 
Gospel  of  St.  John.  One  of  my  fellow-students  was  Levi  Par 
sons,  afterward  distinguished  as  a  missionary  in  the  East. 
He  had  not  so  good  a  verbal  memory  as  I,  and,  as  we  two 
made  a  class,  he  frequently  interrupted  me  to  ask  my  help  in 
the  difficulties  which  he  met  with.  I  gave  it  for  the  first  two 
or  three  days,  but,  the  applications  of  this  sort  becoming  rather 
frequent,  I  answered  one  of  them  with  petulance.  He  went 

*  As  the  boy  was  not  very  strong,  he  often  stopped  in  his  labor  to  rest,  when  the 
grandfather  used  to  taunt  him  with  a  ' '  Well,  Cullen,  making  varses  again  ?  " — G. 


MR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE. 


33 


back  to  his  place  with  a  discouraged  look ;  I  saw  him  wiping 
the  tears  from  his  eyes,  and  the  next  day  it  appeared  that  he 
had  given  up  for  the  time  the  study  of  Greek,  and  had  gone 
back  to  the  Latin.  I  have  never  thought  of  my  conduct  in 
that  instance  without  a  feeling  of  remorse. 

I  now  went  on  alone,  giving  myself  with  my  whole  soul  to 
the  study  of  Greek.  I  was  early  at  my  task  in  the  morning, 
and  kept  on  until  bed-time ;  at  night  I  dreamed  of  Greek,  and 
my  first  thought  in  the  morning  was  of  my  lesson  for  the  day. 
At  the  end  of  two  calendar  months  I  knew  the  Greek  New 
Testament  from  end  to  end  almost  as  if  it  had  been  English, 
and  I  returned  to  my  home  in  Cummington,  where  a  few 
days  afterward  I  completed  my  fifteenth  year. 

About  this  time  occurred  an  event  which  I  remember  with 
regret.  My  grandfather  Snell  had  always  been  substantially 
kind  to  me,  and  ready  to  forward  any  plan  for  my  education, 
but,  when  I  did  what  in  his  judgment  was  wrong,  he  repri 
manded  me  with  a  harshness  which  was  not  so  well  judged  as 
it  was  probably  deserved.  I  had  committed  some  foolish 
blunder,  and  he  was  chiding  me  with  even  more  than  his 
usual  severity ;  I  turned  and  looked  at  him  with  a  steady 
gaze.  "  What  are  you  staring  at  ? "  he  asked.  "  Did  you 
never  see  me  before  ?  "  "  Yes,"  I  answered  ;  "  I  have  seen 
you  many  times  before."  He  had  never  before  heard  a  dis 
respectful  word  from  my  lips.  He  turned  and  moved  away, 
and  never  reproved  me  again  in  that  manner,  but  never  after 
ward  seemed  to  interest  himself  so  much  as  before  in  any  mat 
ter  that  concerned  me. 

The  next  winter  I  was  occupied  with  studies  preparatory 
to  entering  college,  which  for  reasons  of  economy  it  was  de 
cided  that  I  should  do  a  year  in  advance,  that  is  to  say,  as  a 
member  of  the  Sophomore  class.  At  this  time  I  had  no  help 
from  a  tutor,  but  in  the  spring  I  went  again  for  two  months 
to  Plainfield,  and  received  from  Mr.  Hallock  instructions  in 
mathematics.  In  the  beginning  of  September,  1810,  when  the 
annual  Commencement  of  Williams  College  was  at  that  time 

VOL.  L i 


34 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 


held,  I  went  with  my  father  to  Williamstown,  passed  an  easy 
examination,  and  was  admitted  as  a  member  of  the  Sopho 
more  class.  After  the  usual  vacation  I  went  again  to  Wil 
liamstown  and  began  my  college  life.* 

I  found  that  kind  of  life  on  the  whole  agreeable,  and  formed 
pleasant  relations  with  my  fellow-students  and  instructors. 
There  were  two  literary  societies  in  the  college,  to  one  or  the 
other  of  which  every  student  belonged,  the  Philotechnian  and 
Philologian,  and,  as  my  room-mate,  John  Avery,  belonged  to 
the  Philotechnian,  I  was  induced  to  join  it.  These  societies 
had  their  literary  exercises,  in  which  I  took  a  great  interest. 

My  room-mate  was  a  most  worthy  and  well-principled  per 
son,  several  years  older  than  myself,  and  I  owed  so  much  to 
his  example  and  counsels  that  I  have  often  regretted  not  hav 
ing  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  him.  He  became  in  after 
life  a  minister  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  went  to  the  South 
ern  States,  to  Maryland,  I  think,  whence,  about  the  year  1835, 
he  removed  to  Alabama,  and  died  soon  afterward.  The  stu 
dents  of  Williams  College  were  at  that  time  mostly  youths  of 
a  staid  character,  generally  in  narrow  circumstances,  who 
went  to  college  with  a  serious  intention  to  study,  and  prepare 
themselves  for  some  of  the  learned  professions,  so  that  I  have 
no  college  pranks  to  relate.  The  course  of  study  in  Williams 
College  at  that  time  was  meagre  and  slight  in  comparison 
with  what  it  now  is.  There  was  but  one  Professor,  Chester 
Dewey,  Professor  of  Mathematics  and  Natural  Philosophy,  a 
man  of  much  merit,  who  had  the  charge  of  the  Junior  class. 
The  President  of  the  college,  Dr.  Fitch,  superintended  the 
studies  of  the  Senior  class,  and  the  Sophomores  and  Fresh 
men  were  instructed  by  two  tutors  employed  from  year  to 
year.  I  mastered  the  daily  lessons  given  out  to  my  class,  and 
found  much  time  for  miscellaneous  reading,  for  disputations, 
and  for  literary  composition  in  prose  and  verse,  in  all  of  which 
I  was  thought  to  acquit  myself  with  some  credit.  No  atten 
tion  was  then  paid  to  prosody,  but  I  made  an  attempt  to  ac- 

*  October  gth.— G. 


MR.   BRYANT'S  EARLY  LIFE.  35 

quaint  myself  with  the  prosody  of  the  Latin  language,  and 
tried  some  experiments  in  Latin  verse  which  were  clumsy 
and  uncouth  enough. 

Among  my  verses  was  a  paraphrastic  translation  of  Anac- 
reon's  ode  on  Spring.  Moore's  version  of  Anacreon's  ode 
was  consulted,  and  my  room-mate  suggested  that  these  trans 
lations  should  be  shown  to  two  members  of  the  Junior  class, 
whom  he  named,  and  of  whose  judgment  in  literary  matters 
he  thought  highly,  and  that  they,  without  knowing  the  au 
thorship  of  either,  should  be  asked  to  say  which  of  the  two 
was  the  better.  Both  versions  copied  in  the  same  hand  were 
accordingly  laid  before  them  by  Avery.  He  came  back  to 
me  greatly  pleased,  and  informed  me  that  the  two  judges 
had  given  the  preference  to  my  translation.  He  added  that 
they  evidently  supposed  my  translation  to  be  that  of  Moore, 
and  spoke  of  the  other  in  an  encouraging  manner  as  quite 
creditable  on  the  whole.  He  came  away  without  undeceiv 
ing  them. 

My  room-mate,  for  the  sake  of  obtaining  a  more  complete 
education  than  the  course  of  study  at  Williams  then  promised, 
had  resolved  to  leave  the  college  and  become  matriculated  at 
Yale  in  New  Haven.  His  example,  and  a  like  desire  on  my 
part,  induced  me  to  write  to  my  father  for  leave  to  take  the 
same  step,  to  which  he  consented.  Accordingly,  in  the  year 
1811,  before  the  third  term  of  my  Sophomore  year  was  ended, 
I  asked  and  obtained  an  honorable  dismission  from  Williams 
College,*  and,  going  back  to  Cummington,  began  to  prepare 
myself  for  entering  the  Junior  class  at  Yale. 

I  pursued  my  studies  at  home  with  some  diligence  and 
without  any  guide  save  my  books,  but,  when  the  time  drew 
near  that  I  should  apply  for  admission  at  Yale,  my  father  told 
me  that  his  means  did  not  allow  him  to  maintain  me  at  New 
Haven,  and  that  I  must  give  up  the  idea  of  a  full  course  of 
college  education.  I  have  always  thought  this  unfortunate 
for  me,  since  it  left  me  but  superficially  acquainted  with  sev- 

*  May  8th.— G. 


36  AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY: 

eral  branches  of  education,  which  a  college  course  would  have 
enabled  me  to  master,  and  would  have  given  me  greater  readi 
ness  in  their  application.  I  regretted  all  my  life  afterward 
that  I  had  not  remained  at  Williams,  where,  considering  that 
the  expenses  were  less  than  at  Yale,  my  father  might  have 
been  willing  to  support  me  till  I  should  obtain  the  degree  of 
Bachelor  of  Arts. 

While  I  was  engaged  in  the  studies  of  which  I  have  spoken, 
the  medical  library  of  my  father  being  at  hand,  I  read,  in  a 
very  desultory  manner,  of  course,  portions  both  of  the  more 
formal  treatises  and  of  the  periodicals,  and  became  much  in 
terested  in  the  medical  art,  though  the  hardships  of  a  physi 
cian's  life,  as  I  saw  in  the  case  of  my  father,  disinclined  me 
from  making  medicine  my  profession.  The  science  of  chem 
istry  had,  not  long  before  that  time,  been  reformed  and  re 
duced  by  Lavoisier  substantially  to  the  system  now  received, 
and  provided  with  a  new  nomenclature.  By  the  aid  of  ex 
periments  performed  in  my  father's  office,  with  the  chemical 
agents  which  a  country  practitioner  of  medicine  was  obliged 
to  keep  at  home,  I  became  a  pretty  good  chemist  as  far  as 
the  science,  since  that  time  vastly  enlarged  and  extended,  was 
then  carried.  I  also  acquired  some  knowledge  of  botany 
from  works  in  my  father's  library,  in  which  the  Linnasan  sys 
tem  was  explained  and  illustrated.  These  readings  and  stud 
ies  formed  an  agreeable  relaxation,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  from 
my  more  laborious  academic  studies,  but  I  have  never  regret 
ted  the  time  which  I  gave  them.  Meantime,  I  read  all  the 
poetry  that  came  in  my  way.  I  remember  a  lesson  given  me 
in  poetical  composition  by  my  father.  One  day  he  took  down 
from  the  shelf  in  his  office  library  Campbell's  "  Pleasures  of 
Hope,"  which  I  had  read  again  and  again  until  I  had  the  most 
of  it  by  heart.  He  opened  at  the  passage  which  speaks  of 
Admiral  Biron's  wanderings  in  South  America,  and  read  it, 
closing  with  the  lines : 

"  Till,  led  by  thee  o'er  many  a  cliff  sublime, 
He  found  a  warmer  world,  a  milder  clime, 


MR.  BRYANT'S  EARLY  LI  I- 1C.  37 

A  home  to  rest,  a  shelter  to  defend, 
Peace  and  repose,  a  Briton  and  a  friend." 

He  then  bade  me  and  others  who  were  present  observe 
the  tautology  of  these  expressions,  which  was  a  serious  blem 
ish  in  the  poems. 

About  this  time  my  father  brought  home,  I  think  from  one 
of  his  visits  to  Boston,  the  "  Remains  of  Henry  Kirke  White," 
which  had  been  republished  in  this  country.  I  read  the  poems 
with  great  eagerness,  and  so  often  that  I  had  committed  sev 
eral  of  them  to  memory,  particularly  the  ode  to  the  Rose 
mary.  The  melancholy  tone  which  prevails  in  them  deep 
ened  the  interest  with  which  I  read  them,  for  about  that  time 
I  had,  as  young  poets  are  apt  to  have,  a  liking  for  poetry  of  a 
querulous  cast.  I  remember  reading,  at  this  time,  that  remark 
able  poem,  Blair's  "  Grave,"  and  dwelling  with  great  pleas 
ure  upon  its  finer  passages.  I  had  the  opportunity  of  compar 
ing  it  with  a  poem  on  a  kindred  subject,  also  in  blank  verse, 
that  of  Bishop  Porteus  on  "  Death,"  and  of  observing  how 
much  the  verse  of  the  obscure  Scottish  minister  excelled  in 
originality  of  thought  and  vigor  of  expression  that  of  the 
English  prelate.  In  my  father's  library  I  found  a  small,  thin 
volume  of  the  miscellaneous  poems  of  Southey,  to  which  he 
had  not  called  my  attention,  containing  some  of  the  finest 
of  Southey's  shorter  poems.  I  read  it  greedily.  Cowper's 
poems  had  been  in  my  hands  from  an  early  age,  and  I  now 
passed  from  his  shorter  poems,  which  are  generally  mere 
rhymed  prose,  to  his  "  Task,"  the  finer  passages  of  which  sup 
plied  a  form  of  blank  verse  that  captivated  my  admiration.* 

*  Here  the  autobiography  ends  abruptly,  and  just  at  the  time  when  the  poet  was 
going  to  tell  us  of  the  various  influences  under  which  his  "  Thanatopsis"  was  written. 
Why  he  stopped  it  is  not  known  ;  perhaps  he  found  that  his  memory  was  failing 
him — although  it  is  more  likely  that  he  became  dissatisfied  with  the  necessity  his 
task  imposed  upon  him,  of  thinking  so  much  about  himself— a  practice  to  which 
be  was  always  averse. — G. 


CHAPTER   SECOND. 

THE  PLACE  AND   TIME  OF  THE   POET'S   BIRTH. 

I  HAVE  not  been  willing  to  break  the  simple  and  pleasant 
narrative  we  have  just  read  by  interjecting  frequent  notes ; 
but,  as  the  writer  of  it  has  allowed  himself,  through  modesty  or 
forgetfulness,  to  pass  over  many  details  that  the  public  will 
naturally  desire  to  see,  I  shall  endeavor  to  supply  them  in  a 
few  supplementary  chapters.* 

If  it  be  true,  as  Landor  says, 

"We  are  what  suns  and  winds  and  waters  make  us; 
The  mountains  are  our  sponsors,  and  the  rills 
Fashion  and  win  their  nurseling  with  their  smiles,"  f 

some  words  ought  to  be  devoted  to  the  locality  in  which  our 
poet  had  his  birth  and  passed  the  days  of  his  youth  and  earlier 
manhood. 

The  town  of  Cummington,  where  he  first  saw  light,  is  a 
small  hamlet,  known  to  very  few  people,  hidden  away  among 
the  hills  of  Hampshire  County,  in  the  western  part  of  the 
State  of  Massachusetts.  It  consists  of  several  dwellings  and 
stores,  situated  on  the  north  fork  of  a  stony-bedded  little 
stream,  called  Westfield  River,  and  of  scattered  outlying  farm 
houses  that  hang  upon  the  slopes  of  the  neighboring  uplands. 
All  the  country  round  is  mountainous,  as  indeed  is  the  whole 
of  western  Massachusetts,  comprising  the  four  counties  of 
Berkshire,  Hampshire,  Franklin,  and  Hampden.  An  offshoot 

*  I  am  encouraged  to  adopt  this  method  by  the  example  of  Mr.  Lockhart,  in 
his  delightful  biography  of  Sir  Walter  Scott.  See  "  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  Scott," 
vol.  i,  Boston,  1849. 

f  "Hellenics,"  p.  274,  London,  1847. 


CUMMINGTON  IN  EARLY  DAYS.  39 

from  the  Green  Mountains  of  Vermont,  or,  as  the  early  Dutch 
settlers  called  them  because  of  their  wintry  aspects,  the  Snow 
Mountains,  it  is  like  them  also  a  spur  of  the  great  Appala 
chian  chain  that  clasped  the  original  republic.  Its  character 
istics  are  those  of  a  mountain  country,  but  with  peculiarities 
of  its  own.  The  hill-ranges,  which  sometimes  reach  an  ele 
vation  of  between  two  and  three  thousand  feet,  contain  few 
single  peaks  standing  out  in  solitary  grandeur,  although  Gray- 
lock,  Everett,  Mcttawampc.  1  lolyoke,  and  Tom,  the  highest 
points,  are  objects  of  imposing  magnitude.  Nor  are  they  hud 
dled  together,  as  we  often  see  them  in  mountainous  districts, 
making  the  depressions  narrow  and  suffocating.  They  are 

"  Wide,  wild,  and  open  to  the  sky," 

and  from  almost  any  eminence  the  eye  takes  in  a  circle  of  broad 
and  billowy  masses  that  lose  themselves  in  sublime  distances. 

Within  the  valleys  are  found  all  varieties  of  natural  beauty : 
broad  and  grassy  meadows,  often  gorgeous  with  flowers ;  tall 
and  graceful  trees,  either  single  or  in  clumps  or  copses  or  for 
ests  ;  sheets  of  water  that  here  nestle  in  pretty  pools  and  there 
spread  out  in  shining  lakes  ;  brooks  that  dimple  and .  poise  in 
open  meads  or  under  overhanging  bushes,  or  noisy,  impatient 
streams  that  make  their  way  to  the  Connecticut  River  on  one 
side,  and  to  the  Housatonic  on  the  other,  by  which  they  are 
carried  in  more  majestic  currents  to  the  sea. 

This  beautiful  region,  now  largely  covered  by  busy  towns 
and  thrifty  villages,  and  nearly  everywhere  intersected  by 
railroads,  was,  less  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  since,  an 
unbroken  wilderness.  The  bear,  the  wolf,  and  the  catamount 
were  its  almost  exclusive  possessors.  Indians  there  were  in 
plenty,  but  they  affected  the  river  bottoms  mainly,  and  pene 
trated  the  higher  thickets  only  in  pursuit  of  game.  To  the 
newly  come  Pilgrims,  who  were  a  dot  on  the  sear  icse 

mountains  seemed  a  dark  and  terrible  barrier,  infested  by 
savage  beasts  and  wilder  men,  or  by  evil  spirits  who  bur 
dened  the  winds  with  their  bowlings.  It  was  thirty  years 


40  PLACE  AND   TIME  OF  BIRTH. 

from  the  landing  at  Plymouth  before  they  had  erected  planta 
tions  at  Agawam,  now  Springfield,  at  Nonotuck,  now  North 
ampton,  and  at  a  few  other  places  along  the  Connecticut  River 
— Northfield,  Deerfield,  Brookfield,  and  Hadley.  The  terrible 
wars  with  the  Indians,  who  desolated  the  settlements,  left  be 
hind  them  a  heritage  of  sombre  traditions,  followed  up  by 
those  of  the  horrors  and  cruelties  of  the  old  French  war. 

Long  after  civilization  was  established  on  the  low  grounds 
and  slopes  of  the  hills,  there  was  one  broad  tract  of  the  moun 
tains  that  lay  in  its  original  rudeness  and  solitude.  This  was 
situated  about  midway  of  the  two  great  valleys,  many  miles 
from  any  of  the  towns,  and  at  an  elevation  of  two  thousand 
feet  or  more.  The  Indians  called  it  the  Pontoosuc  Forest, 
but  on  the  maps  of  the  colony  it  was  only  known  as  Districts 
Number  i,  2,  3,  4,  5,  and  so  on  up  to  10.  It  had  been  visited 
to  be  surveyed,  but  no  one  lived  there,  and  it  was  wholly  in 
accessible  save  by  paths  which  each  one  made  for  himself. 
The  first  recorded  intelligence  in  regard  to  it,  appears  in  the 
year  1762,  when  the  colony  of  Massachusetts  was  suffering 
under  the  burdens  of  expense  imposed  on  it  by  the  Indian  and 
French  and  English  wars,  and  caused  the  dim  and  shadowy 
outskirts  to  be  sold  by  public  auction  as  a  means  of  recruiting 
its  exhausted  treasury.  The  division  set  down  as  Number 
5,  extending  some  eight  or  nine  miles  in  one  direction  and 
three  or  four  in  another,  was  purchased  by  a  company  of 
twenty-six  persons  living  at  Concord.  At  the  head  of  them 
was  a  Colonel  John  Cuming,  a  Scotchman  by  descent  if  not  by 
birth,  and  a  man  of  note  and  enterprise,  who  had  been  actively 
engaged  in  the  still  recent  Indian  conflicts,  and  who  was  but 
just  returned  from  Indian  captivity  in  Canada.  What  he  or 
any  of  his  companions  knew  of  the  territory  they  had  bought, 
or  what  the  motive  of  its  acquisition  was,  does  not  now  ap 
pear.  "  No  white  man  was  there  to  tell  them  of  its  climate, 
its  soil,  its  productions,  its  minerals,  or  its  wealth,  latent  or 
patent."*  Only  one,  however,  of  the  original  owners  ever 

*  Senator  H.  L.  Dawes's  Centennial  Address,  at  Cummington,  1879. 


PATRIOTIC  SPIRIT  OF    THE  SETTLERS.  4I 

occupied  the  place,  and  their  names  arr  not  hornr  by  those 
who  were  or  are  now  among  its  inhabitants.  They  seem  to 
have  sent  others  to  occupy  for  them. 

It  is  characteristic  of  the  times  in  which  these  wilds  we- re 
sold,  that  a  stipulation  was  entered  in  the  contract  of  sale-  re 
serving  a  certain  part  of  the  land,  with  a  settled  incomf  in 
rye  "to  be  devoted  to  the  support  of  a  gospel  minister,"  and 
another  part  for  the  maintenance  of  a  public  school  which 
should  be  "  free  to  all  the  people."  At  the  very  first  meeting 
held  in  the  settlement,  which  was  not  till  1771,  eleven  years 
from  the  time  of  the  purchase,  and  five  before  the  Declaration 
of  Independence,  the  subject  of  "  locating-  a  meeting-house  " 
was  taken  up  with  serious  zeal  and  earnestness.  But  the  set 
tlers  were  found  to  be  too  few  in  number  and  too  poor,  to  say 
nothing  of  their  disagreements  as  to  the  proper  locality,  to 
warrant  the  erection  of  any  public  edifice,  and  the  worship  of 
the  little  community  was  carried  on  in  houses  of  logs,  where 
the  swallows  built  their  nests,  and  mingled  their  chirpings 
with  a  more  nasal  psalmody.  It  was  not  until  the  year  1793, 
one  year  before  our  poet  was  born,  that  the  first  church  was 
erected  on  the  hill-sides. 

Yet,  few  as  the  settlers  were,  and  remote  from  the  centres 
of  political  life  and  activity,  they  did  not  escape  the  agitations 
of  the  outer  world.  That  impatience  of  British  oppression 
which  had  been  stirring  for  some  time  in  all  the  colonies,  was 
felt  alike  on  mountain  and  plain.  The  patriotic  appeals  of 
James  Otis  and  others  were  heard  as  echoes  among  the  hills. 
As  early  as  1774,  before  the  soil  of  Concord  was  yet  stained 
by  the  first  blood  shed  in  defence  of  popular  rights,  the  little 
handful  of  emigrants  to  the  mountains  had  appointed  three  of 
their  principal  citizens  to  be  a  committee  of  correspondence 
to  keep  the  inhabitants  informed  of  what  was  doing  on  the 
plains,  and  to  provide  "powder  and  lead  for  any  emergency.* 
On  the  1 7th  of  June,  1776,  Ebenezer  Snell,  Jr.,  an  uncle  of 
the  poet,  being  in  his  father's  cornfield,  put  his  ear  to  the 

*  Centennial  Address  at  Cummington,  by  H.  L.  Dawes,  1879. 


42  PLACE  AND   TIME  OF  BIRTH. 

ground  and  heard  a  cannonading  far  away,  which  proved  to 
be  the  onset  at  Bunker  Hill.*  It  was  heard  in  a  moral  sense 
all  over  the  land.  This  Eben  Snell  volunteered,  and  was 
present  at  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga.  All  the 
young  men,  indeed,  who  could  be  spared  from  the  needful 
labors  of  agriculture  enlisted  in  the  patriot  army.  How  many 
went  from  Cummington  into  the  service  is  not  recorded ;  but 
the  names  of  ten  of  them,  a  large  proportion  for  so  small  a 
neighborhood,  who  afterward  received  a  pension,  are  still 
cherished  in  the  grateful  memories  of  their  descendants ;  and 
long  after  they  had  ceased  to  be,  the  stories  of  their  devotion 
and  suffering,  the  romantic  legends  of  Bunker  Hill,  Saratoga, 
Bennington,  and  Yorktown,  told  by  the  lonely  winter  fire 
sides,  kept  alive  in  the  hearts  of  the  farmers  and  woodmen 
the  spirit  which  had  brought  about  the  independence  of  the 
nation.  In  truth,  the  youth  of  that  generation  were  fed 
upon  tales  of  revolutionary  prowess  and  endurance,  and  the 
virtues  and  even  the  forms  of  the  actors  in  the  war  assumed 
in  their  eyes  gigantic  proportions  ;  while  the  principles  of 
political  liberty,  for  which  they  had  contended  and  bled,  be 
came  a  kind  of  religious  faith. 

To  this  secluded  District  No.  5,  with  its  few  scattered  hab 
itations  and  utter  poverty  of  social  life,  Mr.  Ebenezer  Snell, 
called  both  Deacon  and  Squire,  took  his  family  just  before  the 
outbreak  of  the  Revolution  (1774)^  A  young  physician  of 
Norton,  Dr.  Peter  Bryant,  seeking  a  place  wherein  to  practice 
his  art,  wandered  into  the  same  neighborhood  many  years 
later ;  where,  in  course  of  time,  he  was  smitten  by  the  charms 
of  "sweet  Sallie  Snell,"  as  he  alliteratively  expresses  it  in 
verses  still  extant,  and  was  married  to  her  in  1792.  Their  two 
elder  children,  Austin  and  William  Cullen,  were  born  in  a 

*  This  story  was  lately  told  by  a  writer  in  the  New  York  "  Journal  of  Ccm- 
merce,"  who  heard  it  from  Mr.  Snell,  then  eighty  years  of  age. 

f  Deacon  Snell  was,  in  1784,  and  afterward,  a  representative  in  the  General 
Court,  or  Legislature,  of  the  State,  and  also,  for  many  years,  a  Judge  of  the  Court 
of  Sessions — the  County  Court. 


SCENERY  OF   THE  POET'S  BIRTHPLACE. 


43 


small  frame  house — the  characteristic  architecture  of  the  fron 
tier  that  follows  the  log-hut — on  the  top  of  a  bleak  hill  some 
two  miles  from  the  present  village.  For  himself,  Deacon 
Sneli  procured  a  more  commodious  dwelling  farther  west, 
now  known  as  the  Bryant  Homestead.  If  he  had  been  a  poet 
or  a  painter,  he  could  not  have  chosen  a  more  charming  site. 
From  the  cosy  shelter  of  its  newly-planted  apple  orchards,  it 
looked  out  upon  an  immense  expanse  of  low  and  high  lands. 
The  hills  to  the  eastward  rose  one  above  another  until  the  last 
one  met  the  sun  in  his  coming ;  and  those  on  the  west  and 
south  extended  their  hands  to  old  Graylock,  "  familiar  with 
forgotten  years."  In  front  ran  the  babbling  brook,  to  be  here 
after  known  as  the  Rivulet,  through  green  meadows  that  de 
scended,  more  or  less  precipitously,  to  the  Westfield,  whose 
gentle  murmurs,  only  heard  in  the  stillness  of  night,  broke 
into  a  roar  when  the  rains  had  swollen  its  current.  Behind, 
in  solemn,  interminable  shade,  stretched  the  primeval  for 
ests  of  beech,  birch,  ash,  maple,  and  hemlock,  of  which  the 
readers  of  an  "  Inscription  for  the  Entrance  to  a  Wood"  will 
retain  a  vivid  picture. 

During  the  fairer  season  of  the  year,  that  is,  from  June  into 
October,  the  landscape  here  was  all  brightness  and  tranquil 
lity.  The  clearest  of  skies  looked  down  upon  waving  fields  of 
singular  beauty.  The  suns  rose  each  morning  as  if  it  were 
the  dawn  of  a  new  creation,  and  they  set  each  evening  amid 
the  most  dazzling  effusions  of  color,  and  a  profound  silence, 
unbroken  save  by  woodland  murmurs  and  the  songs  of  birds. 
In  the  autumn  these  vast  billowy  circles  of  forest  blazed  with 
crimson,  gold,  and  purple,  whose  brilliancy  the  most  gorgeous 
of  Venetian  painters  would  have  envied ;  yet  subdued  by  a 
wreath  of  silver  haze  which  made  it  soft,  genial,  and  harmoni 
ous.  It  was  a  magnificence,  however,  that  was  short-lived,  for 
in  a  latitude  so  far  toward  the  north  the  winter  arrived  early 
and  continued  long,  and  while  it  lasted  it  was  very  intense.  The 
cold  blasts  cut  to  the  marrow ;  the  trees  not  only  lost  their 
leaves,  but  stalked  out  of  the  earth  like  the  skeletons  of  trees ; 


44  PLACE  AND    TIME  OF  BIRTH. 

all  the  birds  were  driven  away,  save  the  crow,  the  hawk,  the 
jay,  the  partridge,  and  the  nuthatch,  which  have  no  melody  in 
their  harsh  screams  and  scolding  shrieks ;  and/while  the  cattle 
sought  the  shelter  of  barns  and  sheds,  man  clung  to  his  fire 
side.  In  every  direction  the  outlook  was  bleak  and  deso 
late  ;  and,  though  the  fancies  of  poets  discern  in  the  effects 
wrought  by  the  winds  among  the  falling  snowflakes  * — when 
the  delicate  sprays  of  the  forests  are  glittering  gems,  the 
massy  trunks  are  encased  in  crystal,  and  the  long-drawn  aisles 
of  the  wood-arches  are  amethyst  and  topaz — an  architecture 
that  surpasses  the  richest  arabesques  and  fretworks  of  Moor 
ish  and  Venetian  genius,  and  to  which  no  cathedral  of  the  old 
world  is  comparable — the  conditions  of  life  were  extremely 
severe.  A  soil  for  the  most  part  reluctant  or  sterile  was 
scarcely  compensated,  in  the  minds  of  the  husbandmen  at 
least,  by — 

"  The  glory  of  the  morn,  the  glow  of  eve, 
The  beauty  of  the  streams,  and  stars,  and  flowers." 

In  the  midst  of  this  lovely  scenery  the  poet  was  born,  and 
at  a  time,  too,  not  unworthy  of  passing  remark.  It  was  in 
the  second  year  of  the  second  administration  of  Washington. 
Our  new  political  structure  consisted  as  yet  of  only  fifteen 
States — Vermont  and  Kentucky  having  been  added  to  the 
original  thirteen  since  the  Revolution.  Many  of  the  Revo 
lutionary  heroes  were  still  alive ;  the  framers  of  the  Fed 
eral  Constitution  were  most  of  them  in  active  political  life ; 
the  earnest  contests  of  opinion,  as  to  the  character  and  di 
rection  to  be  given  to  the  untried  experiment  of  Democratic- 
Republican  government,  were  raging  with  great  vehemence  ; 
and  it  seemed  yet  undetermined,  in  spite  of  the  hopes  indulged 
in  by  more  sanguine  temperaments,  whether  the  glorious 
inspirations  which  had  sustained  the  patriotic  mind  through 
the  appalling  difficulties  of  the  war,  and  the  no  less  appalling 

*  The  New  England  poets,  Bryant,  Emerson,  Whittier,  and  Lowell,  have  man 
aged  to  get  some  of  their  most  charming  lines  out  of  the  snow-scenes  of  their  home. 


THE  STATE  OF  LITERATURE. 


45 


difficulties  of  the  quasi-anarchy  that  followed  it,  should  i 
in  a  stable,  compact,  and  vigorous  polity,  or  in  failure,  di^r. 
and  ruin.  These  contests  were  complicated  by  events  abroad, 
where  a  tempest  of  revolution  had  swept  over  France,  and 
was  threatening-  England  as  well  as  the  nations  of  the  Con 
tinent.  The  "black  terror"  was  coming  to  an  end,  Robes 
pierre  and  his  accomplices  had  gone  to  the  scaffold,  but  the 
Directory  was  still  in  power.  French  popular  armies  over 
ran  or  menaced  nearly .  all  the  ancient  States.  The  British 
House  of  Commons  was  still  ringing  with  the  powerful  elo 
quence  of  Burke,  Fox,  and  Pitt,  and  the  great  man,  destined 
to  play  a  grander  part  than  any  one  else  in  the  coming  drama, 
lately  a  lieutenant  of  artillery,  who  had  just  got  his  hand  in 
at  the  petty  siege  of  Toulon,  was  on  his  way  to  Italy,  as  Gen 
eral,  to  begin  the  most  wonderful  series  of  military  exploits 
that  history  has  ever  recorded. 

At  that  day  no  such  thing  as  an  American  literature,  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word,  existed.  Fisher  Ames,  writing  on  the 
subject  in  1801,  says  that,  "  excepting  the  writers  of  two  able 
works  on  Politics,*  we  have  no  authors.  Has  our  country 
produced  one  great  original  man  of  genius  ?  f  Is  there  one  lu 
minary  in  our  firmament  that  shines  with  unborrowed  rays?" 
As  for  poetry,  he  intimates  that  the  Muses,  like  nightingales, 
are  too  delicate  to  cross  the  salt  water,  or  sicken  and  mope 
without  song  if  they  do.  $  But,  as  the  political  condition  had 
recently  undergone  a  great  change,  which  was  thought  to  be 
an  improvement,  the  more  buoyant  minds  of  the  era  were 
hopeful  of  a  literary  dawn.  A  passage  in  the  famous  dis 
course  which  the  eloquent  Buckminster  delivered  eight  years 
later,  in  1809,  before  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society  of  Cam 
bridge,  admits  the  fact  of  our  sterility,  but  salves  it  with  a  pre 
diction.  "  Our  poets  and  historians,"  he  said,  "  our  critics 
and  orators,  the  men  of  whom  posterity  are  to  stand  in  awe 

*  Jefferson  and  John  Adams  probably. 

f  He  had  forgotten  Benjamin  Franklin. 

\  "  Life  and  Works  of  Fisher  Ames,"  vol.  ii,  p.  428,  Boston,  1854. 


46  PLACE  AND   TIME  OF  BIRTH. 

and  by  whom  they  are  to  be  instructed,  are  yet  to  appear 
among  us.  But,  if  we  are  not  mistaken  in  the  signs  of  the 
times,  the  genius  of  our  literature  begins  to  show  symptoms 
of  vigor,  and  to  meditate  a  bolder  flight,  and  the  generation 
which  is  to  succeed  us  will  be  formed  on  better  models  and 
leave  a  brighter  track."  * 

In  Europe,  the  old  spirit  was  visibly  giving  way  to  the  new. 
Kant's  three  wonderful  volumes  of  criticism  were  but  recently 
from  the  press,  and  yet  they  had  already  moulded  the  acute 
and  active  German  mind  into  new  forms.  Goethe  had  print 
ed  "  Goetz  of  Berlichingen  "  and  Schiller  his  "  Robbers,"  and 
both  were  advancing  to  other  and  better  work.  In  Eng 
land  the  long  reign  of  the  Queen  Anne's  men  was  on  the 
decline.  Cowper,  though  he  would  write  no  more,  had  yet 
six  years  to  live ;  Burns  was  singing  a  swan-song  of  depart 
ure  ;  Scott  was  hunting  up  the  old  ballads  of  the  Scottish 
borders ;  Byron  was  a  boy  at  Harrow ;  Shelley  was  in  his 
cradle,  and  Keats  was  not  yet  born ;  but  the  titanic  Landor 
had  issued  his  first  book,  and  Wordsworth,  Coleridge,  and 
Southey  were  dreaming  pantisocratic  dreams  of  a  golden  age, 
not  to  be  set  agoing,  as  they  fondly  thought,  in  America,  but 
in  the  pages  of  their  own  poetry,  destined  to  revive 

" — the  melodious  bursts  that  fill 
The  spacious  time  of  great  Elizabeth." 

*  "Sermons  of  J.  S.  Buckminster,"  Boston,  1829. 


CHAPTER   THIRD. 

THE    BRYANT    FAMILY    AND    ANCESTORS. 

NEITHER  Mr.  Bryant  nor  any  of  his  kindred  seems  to  have 
been  possessed  with  what  Southey  calls  the  leaven  of  ances 
tral  pride,  or,  at  least,  it  did  not  work  very  powerfully  in  their 
blood.  No  one  of  them,  so  far  as  I  am  able  to  ascertain,  ever 
took  the  pains  to  trace  his  family  relationships  among  the 
records  of  the  old  world.  Their  curiosity  in  this  respect 
stopped  on  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic.  Though  several  of 
them,  whose  reports  are  before  me,  made  inquiries  as  to 
their  lineage,  they  were  contented  to  go  no  further  back 
than  the  days  in  which  the  Pilgrims  were  landed  at  Ply 
mouth.  What  William  the  Conqueror  and  his  followers 
are  to  the  noble  families  of  old  England,  the  passengers 
by  the  Mayflower  are  to  the  noble  families  of  New  England ; 
meaning  the  families  that  have  nobly  served  their  day  and 
generation.  They  are  the  Eupatrids,  or  Founders,  the  only 
sources  of  distinction  and  honor.  No  Bryant  was  among 
these  passengers ;  but,  if  we  trace  the  family  up  through 
its  degrees,  we  shall  see  that  the  poet  had  a  triple  title  to 
Mayflower  origin.* 


*  The  following  table  of  the  generations  upward  furnishes,  perhaps,  all  the  infor 
mation  that  may  be  required  on  this  head  : 

I. — THE  CHILDREN,  BORN  AT  CI-MMINCITON. 

Austin  Bryant,  b.  April  16,  1793  ;  William  Cullen,  b.  November  3,  1794  ; 
Cyrus,  b.  July  12,  1798  ;  Sarah  Snell,  b.  July,  1802  ;  Peter  Rush,  afterward  called 
Arthur,  b.  November  28,  1803  ;  Charity  Louisa,  b.  December  20,  1805  ;  and  John 


48  THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS. 

The  poet's  mother  was  the  daughter  of  Ebenezer  Snell  (see 
note  III,  3  and  4),  the  fourth  of  the  six  children  of  Zachariah 
Snell  and  Abigail  Hay  ward  (IV,  5,  6),  who  was  the  young 
est  child  of  Joseph  Hayward  and  Harriet  Mitchell  (V,  n,  12), 
and  Mrs.  Harriet  (Mitchell)  Hayward  was  the  youngest  daugh- 

Howard,  b.  July  22,  1807.     Of  these  seven  children,  only  Arthur  and  John  Howard 

are  alive  in  1882. 

II.— THE  PARENTS. 

"(i.)  Dr.  PETER  BRYANT,  b.  at  North  Bridgewater  August  12,  1767  ;  d.  at 

Cummington  March  19,  1820. 

ISt*         (2.)  SARAH  SNELL,  b.  at  North  Bridgewater  December  4,  1768  ;  mar 
ried  1792  ;  d.  at  Princeton,  Illinois,  May  6,  1847. 

III. — THE  GRANDPARENTS. 

(  (i.)  Dr.  PHILIP  BRYANT,  b.  1731 ;  d.  1816,  aged  85. 
15  '      \  (2.)  SILENCE  HOWARD,  b.  1738  ;  married  1757;  d. 

t  (3.)  Col.  EBENEZER  SNELL,  b.  October  i,  1738  ;   found  dead  in  his  bed 
2d.      )  August  16,  1813. 

(  (4.)  SARAH  PACKARD,  b.  September  10,  1737;  married  1764;  d. 

IV. — THE  GREAT  GRANDPARENTS. 

f  (i.)  ICHABOD  BRYANT,  b.  1702  ;  d.  1759  ;  lived  at  Rhaneham,  and  thence 
ist.      <  moved  to  West  Bridgewater. 

(  (2.)  RUTH  STAPLES  ;  birth  and  date  of  marriage  unknown. 
^        (  (3.)  Dr.  ABIEL  HOWARD,  b.  November  6,  1704  ;  d.  1777. 

(  (4.)  SILENCE  WASHBURN,  b.  1713  ;  married  1737  ;  d.  1775. 
,       j  (5.)  ZACHARIAH  SNELL,  b.  March  17,  1704 ;  d. 

I  (6.)  ABIGAIL  HAYWARD,  b.  August  3,  1702  ;  married  1731. 
4th      \  ^'^  C'aPt-  ABIEL  PACKARD,  b.  April  29,  1699 ;  d.  1774. 

(  (8.)  SARAH  AMES,  b.  January  23,  1702  ;  married  1723  ;  d.  1770. 

V. — THE  GREAT  GREAT  GRANDPARENTS. 
t      j    (i.)  STEPHEN  BRYANT,  b.  1657. 

(    (2.)  MEHITABEL ,  date  of  marriage  unknown  (1683  ?). 

(3.)  FATHER  of  Ruth  Staples  unknown. 
(4.)  MOTHER          "  " 

3d       •!  (5>)  JONATHAN  HOWARD,  ;  d.  1739. 

/  (6.)  SARAH  DEANE,  dates  unknown. 

4th      -S  ^  Capt  NEHEMIAH  WASHBURN,  b.  1685  ;  d.  1748. 

(  (8.)  JANE  HOWARD,  b.  1689  ;  married  1713  ;  d.  , 

5th.     \    kO  J°SIAH  SNELL- 

(  (10.)  ANNA  ALDEN,  married  1699. 

6th     i  (IJ')  JOSEPH  HAYWARD. 
(12.)  HARRIET  MITCHELL. 


GENEALOGIES.  49 

tcr  of  Experience  Mitchell  and  Jane  Cook.  Now,  this  Jane 
(Cook)  Mitchell  was  the  third  of  the  five  children  of  Francis 
Cook  and  Esther  his  wife.  Francis  Cook  and  his  son  John 
came  over  as  passengers  in  the  Ma\  flower,  landing  at  Plym 
outh  December  22,  1620,  while  Mrs.  Cook,  who  was  a  native 
of  the  Netherlands,  came  over  in  1623  in  the  ship  Anne,  the 
third  that  made  the  voyage  to  Plymouth,  accompanied  by 
their  three  other  children,  Jacob,  Jane,  and  Esther.  Their 
fifth  child,  Mary,  was  born  in  Plymouth  in  1626.* 

f  (13.)  ZACHEUS  PACKARD,  d.  1723,  son  of  Samuel  Packard,  d.  1684,  who 
7th.     •?  came  over  in  the  Diligent  of  Ipswich,  1638. 

(  (14.)  SARAH  HOWARD,  dates  unknown. 


8th      \  ^I5>)  JOHN  AMES»  b-  APril  J4.  1672  ;  d.  1756. 

(  (16.)  SARAH  WASHBURN,  married  January  12,  1697. 

Stephen  Bryant  (see  V,  i)  was  the  son  of  another  Stephen  Bryant,  who  came 
from  England  in  his  youth  in  about  1632  ;  was  a  town  officer  in  Duxbury  in  1644  ; 
removed  to  Plymouth,  and  was  propounded  as  freeman  in  1655  ;  surveyor  of  high 
ways  in  1658,  1674,  1678.  He  married  Abigail  Shaw  about  1645,  who  came  over 
with  her  father,  John  Shaw,  in  1632,  and  settled  at  Plymouth.  From  this  couple 
the  Bryants  were  descended. 

Sarah  Deane  (V,  6)  was  the  daughter  of  John  Deane,  a  son  of  the  first  emigrant 
of  the  name,  who  came  from  near  Taunton,  in  England,  and  settled  at  Taunton,  in 
Massachusetts. 

Jane  Howard  (V,  8)  was  the  daughter  of  Capt.  John  Howard,  who  came  from 
England,  and  lived  at  Duxbury  in  1643. 

Anna  Alden  (V,  10)  was  the  daughter  of  John  Alden,  a  son  of  the  John  Aldcn 
who  came  by  the  Mayflower. 

Sarah  Howard  (V,  14)  was  the  daughter  of  the  first  John  Howard,  born  1666, 
died  1750,  and  Mary  Keith,  daughter  of  the  Rev.  James  Keith,  of  Aberdeen,  Scot 
land. 

Harriet  Mitchell  (V,  12)  was  the  daughter  of  Experience  Mitchell,  who  arrived 
in  the  Anne  in  1623,  and  Jane  Cook,  a  daughter  of  Francis  Cook,  a  passenger  by 
the  Mayflower. 

Sarah  Washburn  (V,  16)  was  a  daughter  of  Elizabeth  Mitchell  and  granddaughter 
of  Experience  Mitchell,  just  named. 

*  For  these  and  other  particulars  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Ellis  Ames,  of  Canton, 
Mass.,  one  of  the  Commissioners  appointed  by  the  Legislature  in  1865  to  compile 
a  complete  copy  of  the  Statutes  and  Laws  of  the  Province  and  State  of  Massachu 
setts  Bay,  from  the  time  of  the  Province  Charter  to  the  adoption  of  the  Federal  Con 
stitution.  (Since  published  in  nine  volumes.)  His  researches  have  been  minute  and 
exhaustive. 

VOL.  I.—  5 


50  THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS. 

Again :  the  poet's  grandmother,  ne'e  Sarah  Packard,  was 
the  daughter  of  Capt.  Abiel  Packard  and  Sarah  Ames  (see 
IV,  7,  8),  who  was  the  daughter  of  John  Ames  and  Sarah 
Washburn  (V,  15,  16).  Mrs.  Sarah  Washburn,  wife  of  Mr. 
John  Ames,  was  the  youngest  of  the  ten  children  of  John 
Washburn  and  Elizabeth  Mitchell,  and  Mrs.  Elizabeth  (Mitch 
ell)  Washburn  was  one  of  the  eight  children  of  Experience 
Mitchell  and  Jane  Cook  his  wife ;  Mrs.  Jane  (Cook)  Mitchell 
was  the  third  of  the  five  children  of  Francis  and  Esther  Cook, 
already  mentioned. 

Again,  and  more  important :  Josiah  Snell  (V,  9),  the  grand 
father  of '  Ebenezer  Snell,  married  Anna  Alden,  the  daughter 
of  John  Alden,  and  a  granddaughter  of  Capt.  John  Alden  and 
Priscilla  Mullins,  whose  story  is  so  beautifully  told  in  the 
poem  by  Longfellow.*  Priscilla  Mullins  was  the  daughter  of 
William  Mullins,  or  Mollines,  who,  with  his  wife  and  two  chil 
dren,  Joseph  and  Priscilla,  and  a  servant  named  Robert  Car 
ter,  came  over  in  the  Mayflower.  William  Mullins,  the  father, 
died  in  less  than  two  months,  viz.,  on  the  2ist  of  February, 
1621,  and  his  wife  a  few  days  before  or  after  him,  and  his  son, 
Joseph,  and  his  servant,  Robert  Carter,  died  the  same  season ; 
but  the  daughter,  Priscilla  Mullins,  survived,  married  John 
Alden,  and  had  eleven  children,  one  of  whom  was  John,  the 
father  of  Anna,  the  wife  of  Josiah  Snell,f  the  grandfather  of 
Ebenezer  Snell,  who  was  the  grandfather  of  William  Cullen. 
Twice  he  ascends  to  Francis  Cook,  and  once  to  the  brave  cap 
tain  of  history  and  romance. 

The  name  Bryant,  or  Briant,  would  seem  to  be  rather 
French  than  English,  and  is  said  to  be  prevalent  still  in  Nor 
mandy  ;  but  the  greater  number  of  the  names  in  our  table  are 
unquestionably  English.  A  Scottish  strain  came  in  with  the 
Rev.  James  Keith,  a  graduate  of  Aberdeen  College,  and  for 

*  I  cannot  refer  to  this  poem  without  remarking  how  much  it  adds  to  our  interest 
in  John  and  Priscilla  to  know  that  our  two  earliest  and  most  eminent  poets,  Bryant 
and  Longfellow,  were  descended  from  them. 

f  Authority  of  Mr.  Ellis  Ames,  before  cited  (p.  49,  note). 


PHYSICAL   STRENGTH  OF   THE  PARENTS.  $I 

more  than  fifty  years  a  minister  at  North  Bridgewater,  where 
the  house  he  occupied  still  stands,  and  it  may  be  supposed  to 
have  brought  with  it  the  proverbial  intensity  of  the  Scottish 
race,  and  "  its  double  love  of  song  and  saintliness."  But  the 
stock,  on  the  side  of  both  parents,  though  it  blossomed  into 
no  shining  flowers,  wras  a  sturdy  one,  of  vigorous  sap  and  un 
usual  tenacity  of  life. 

"Our  great  grandfather,  Ichabod  Bryant,"  Mr.  Arthur  Bryant 
writes  me,  "  was  a  man  of  gigantic  size  and  strength.  He  would  place 
his  hands  on  the  shoulders  of  any  common  man  and  crush  him  to  the 
earth,  in  spite  of  his  resistance.  Our  grandfather,  Dr.  Philip  Bryant, 
lived  to  the  age  of  eighty-five,  and  visited  his  patients  till  a  fortnight 
before  his  death.  A  cousin  of  mine,  who  lived  with  him,  and  was 
grown  up  when  he  died,  told  me  that  he  would  mount  a  horse  to  the 
last  with  the  greatest  ease.  Our  father  was  a  man  of  great  muscular 
power,  and  used  to  perform  feats  of  strength  that  no  two  ordinary 
men  could  accomplish.  One  of  his  greatest  exploits,  which  seems 
incredible,  but  is  well  attested,  was  this :  He  accompanied  two  of  his 
students  of  medicine  to  fish  in  a  small  lake  of  great  depth  which  lies 
among  the  hills  northwest  of  Cummington,  and  is  the  source  of  West- 
field  River.  They  went  out  upon  the  water  in  an  old  skiff,  but  their 
frail  vessel  soon  broke  asunder.  The  two  students  could  not  swim, 
and  my  father  took  them  both  and  swam  ashore  with  them.  Our 
maternal  grandfather  was  also  uncommonly  active  and  energetic ; 
and,  when  our  mother  came  to  Illinois  in  1835,  she  said,  at  the  house 
of  my  brother  Cyrus,  that  she  used,  when  young,  to  mount  a  horse 
from  the  ground.  He,  affecting  incredulity,  remarked  that  he  should 
like  to  see  it  done,  when  she,  piqued  by  his  apparent  scepticism, 
added  that,  if  a  horse  was  brought  to  the  door,  she  would  do  it 
again.  A  horse  was  saddled  and  brought  to  the  door,  and,  though 
she  was  then  sixty-seven  years  old,  she  performed  the  feat  at  once."* 

*  This  vigor  of  race  was  sometimes  shown  in  the  collateral  branches  on  the 
larger  field  of  war.  Seth  Bryant,  son  of  Ichabod,  was  at  the  capture  of  Louisburg 
in  the  old  French  war,  was  an  orderly  sergeant  at  Bunker  Hill,  and  present  also  at 
the  surrender  of  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown.  Oliver  and  Daniel,  sons  of  Philip  Bryant, 
were  both  in  the  Revolutionary  struggle,  and  the  younger  Philip  Bryant  was  on 
board  the  Chesapeake  in  her  action  with  the  Shannon.  A  son  of  Stephen  Bryant, 


52  THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS. 

But,  with  all  this  strength,  there  was  a  taint  of  pulmonary 
weakness  somewhere  in  the  family,  of  which  several  of  its 
members  died,  and  which  Dr.  Bryant  and  two  of  his  children 
inherited. 

The  greater  part  of  the  father's  early  life  was  a  severe 
struggle  against  untoward  circumstances.  A  paper  in  his 
handwriting,  found  within  the  last  year  or  two  by  Mr.  John 
H.  Bryant,  discloses  many  particulars  of  it,  which  he  had 
never  spoken  of  even  to  his  children.  It  is  evidently  the  frag 
ment  of  a  letter  written  to  some  friend  who  had  consulted  him 
in  regard  to  his  willingness  to  serve  as  Senator  from  the 
County  of  Hampshire  in  the  General  Court.  It  will  be  read, 
I  think,  with  considerable  interest. 

"  I  have  for  some  time  been  wishing  to  write  to  you  upon  a  sub 
ject  which  you  once  mentioned  to  me,  but  a  diffidence  which  I  found 
it  very  difficult  to  overcome  has  till  this  time  prevented  my  undertak 
ing  it.  You,  sir,  are  certainly  so  far  acquainted  with  me  as  to  be  able 
to  judge  whether  I  have  abilities  to  support  the  dignity  of  the  office 
with  honor  to  myself  and  my  constituents.  I  do  not  affect  that  in 
sensibility  which  would  not  prize  the  honor  of  representing  so  respect 
able  a  portion  of  my  native  State  as  the  County  of  H .  Yet,  if 

the  last,  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  be  the  least  of  the  honorable 
Board.  If  my  friends  think  that,  by  the  exertion  of  such  talents  as  I 
have,  I  can  contribute  something  to  the  service  of  my  country,  I  am 
willing  under  the  great  disadvantages  that  will  attend  my  acceptance 
of  the  office,  the  sacrifices  of  personal  interest,  and  the  privations  of 
domestic  enjoyment,  to  consent  to  the  nomination. 

"  I  am  sensible  of  the  defects  of  my  education,  and  have  sought 
to  supply  them  as  far  as  industry  and  my  limited  means  would  per 
mit.  I  had  literally  no  attention  paid  to  it  from  8  to  14 — the  season 
when  the  mind  is  most  susceptible  and  most  easily  impressed,  and 

and  brother  of  Ichabod,  William  Bryant,  who  died  in  1772,  aged  88  years,  has  on 
his  tombstone  at  Perth  Amboy,  N.  J.,  that  he  made  "fifty-five  voyages  between 
the  ports  of  New  York  and  London,  and  approved  himself  a  faithful  and  fortunate 
commander."  Julian  E.  Bryant,  a  nephew  of  the  poet,  served  through  our  Civil 
War,  rose  to  the  rank  of  captain,  and  was  drowned  at  Brazos,  Texas,  in  1865. 


DR.  BRYANTS  EDUCATION,  53 

when  it  ought  to  receive  the  rudiments  of  knowledge.  I  was  left  with 
an  uncle  who,  being  an  avaricious  man,  thought  all  time  lost  which 
was  not  employed  agreeably  to  his  frugal  system  of  hoarding.  I  have 
often  smarted  under  the  lash  for  the  time  I  had  stolen  to  read  such 
books  as  I  could  borrow  in  the  neighborhood.  During  these  years  I 
never  had  a  single  day's  schooling.  I  was  so  vexed  at  this  treatment 
that  I  eventually  ran  away  and  refused  to  return.  My  father  at  this 
time  had  married  a  second  wife.  She  proved  to  be  a  thrifty  woman, 
and  thought  boys  ought  to  be  kept  out  of  idleness — that  no  good 
could  come  of  so  much  reading,  and  that  some  other  employment  was 
much  more  profitable.  My  father's  farm  was  new ;  it  wanted  clear 
ing  and  fencing.  I  was,  therefore,  kept  closely  at  manual  labor  from 
this  time  till  I  was  20  years  old,  except  about  three  months  each  win 
ter  during  the  four  first  winters,  a  part  of  which  time  I  attended  a 
grammar  school  and  acquired  some  knowledge  of  writing,  arithmetic, 
and  the  rudiments  of  Latin.  At  eighteen  I  was  allowed  the  privilege 
of  keeping  school  three  months  in  the  winter.  By  assiduous  applica 
tion  I  had  at  this  time  obtained  a  little  knowledge  of  Greek,  so  that 
at  nineteen  I  underwent  an  examination  and  was  approbated  as  quali 
fied  to  keep  a  grammar  school.  At  twenty  I  commenced  an  open 
rebellion.  My  spirit  could  brook  such  management  no  longer.  I 
have  every  reason  to  respect  my  father,  and  have  no  doubt  he  would 
have  proceeded  differently  with  his  children  had  he  not  been  too 
much  influenced  by  the  counsels  and  maxims  of  his  wife.  Finding, 
however,  that  I  continued  restive,  I  was  permitted  to  enter  myself  as 
freshman  at  Cambridge.  But  from  dread  of  the  expense  of  a  public 
education,  or  some  other  cause  never  explained  to  me,  I  was  directed 
soon  after  to  commence  the  study  of  medicine  under  the  tuition  of 
my  father.  With  the  avails  of  my  school-keeping  I  purchased  a  few 
of  the  Latin  and  Greek  classics,  and  in  the  mean  time  read  Homer 
and  Xenophon  as  well  as  I  could  without  an  instructor.  I  read  also 
such  history  as  a  small  circulating  library  established  in  the  parish 
afforded,  and  as  many  medical  books  aside  from  my  father's  moder 
ate  library  as  I  could  procure  by  borrowing.  My  reading  was  mostly 
confined  to  antiquated  books.  With  these  helps  and  one  year's  in 
struction  under  a  celebrated  French  surgeon,  and  attending  a  course 
of  lectures  with  the  medical  professor  at  Cambridge,  I  was  thought 
qualified  at  the  age  of  twenty-three  to  enter  upon  the  practice  of  my 


54 


THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS. 


profession.  After  this  I  continued  two  years  with  my  father,  per 
formed  all  the  drudgery  of  the  business,  and  shared  a  small  part  of 
the  profits,  no  suitable  vacancy  presenting  itself.  At  the  age  of 
twenty-five,  with  my  small  stock  of  book-knowledge,  without  experi 
ence  in  the  ways  of  the  world,  my  whole  property  consisting  of  a 
horse,  a  few  books,  and  about  twenty-five  dollars  worth  of  medicine, 
I  launched  out  into  the  wide  world  to  begin  business,  and  established 
myself  where  I  now  reside.  What  happened  during  a  two  years'  voy 
age  to  the  East  Indies,  Isle  of  France,  and  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  is  of 
little  consequence  to  this  narrative.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  I  returned 
with  more  knowledge  of  men  and  things,  but  from  several  unlucky 
incidents  without  having  added  anything  to  my  property.  I  was 
truly  and  literally  poor." 

The  voyage  referred  to  in  this  extract  was  undertaken  by 
Dr.  Bryant  in  1/95,  in  the  capacity  of  surgeon  to  a  mer 
chant  vessel,  in  which  he  had  also  risked  some  small  mercan 
tile  ventures.  Unfortunately  for  his  enterprise,  the  French 
Directory  just  about  that  time,  in  retaliation  of  a  similar  out 
rage  on  neutral  rights  committed  by  Great  Britain,  had  issued 
an  arbitrary  decree  against  neutral  ships  destined  to  any  of 
the  enemy's  ports,  which  caused  the  vessel  to  be  detained  at 
the  Isle  of  France  (Mauritius),  where  she  was  subsequently 
confiscated,  with  all  the  property  on  board.  Dr.  Bryant  was 
compelled  to  remain  on  the  island  for  more  than  a  year,  but 
without  wholly  losing  his  time,  as  he  practiced  his  art  in  the 
French  hospitals,  and  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  French 
language.  Some  of  the  heavier  hours  of  his  exile  he  relieved 
by  pursuing  the  traces  of  the  adventurous  and  susceptible 
Bernardin  de  St.  Pierre,  who  had  visited  the  island  a  few 
years  before,  and  woven  a  spell  of  romance  about  its  rustic 
scenes  and  simple  manners  in  the  famous  story  of  "  Paul  and 
Virginia,"  which  has  brought  tears  to  so  many  young  eyes  all 
over  the  civilized  world.  On  his  return  he  stopped  for  a 
while  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  where  he  gathered  books, 
curiosities,  instruments,  and  botanical  specimens,  all  of  which 


RISE  OF   VNITARIANISM. 


55 


were  lost,  with  the  rest  of  his  luggage,  by  some  accident  that 
befell  them  when  they  were  about  to  be  landed  at  Salem. 

It  is  a  mere  conjecture,  but  not  an  improbable  one,  that 
Dr.  Bryant,  while  making  acquaintance  with  the  literature  of 
France,  should  have  acquired  some  of  that  freedom  and  inde 
pendence  of  thought,  which  enabled  him  soon  afterward  to 
break  away  from  the  Calvinistic  theology  in  which  he  had 
been  bred.  A  personal  sufferer  under  the  odious  despot 
ism  desolating  France,  and  extending  its  sweep  even  to  the 
oceans,  he  was  not  likely  to  become  a  very  enthusiastic  recipi 
ent  of  the  French  philosophy,  in  its  applications  either  to  re 
ligious  or  to  political  practice.  On  the  contrary,  he  turned 
out  a  sturdy  antagonist  of  those  "  French  influences,"  which 
were  supposed  to  be  giving  an  infectious  taint  to  our  domes 
tic  modes  of  thinking.  But  a  mind  as  open  and  inquisitive  as 
his,  could  hardly  have  escaped  some  touches  of  a  spirit  which 
maddened  nearly  half  the  world.  Be  this  as  it  may,  it  is  cer 
tain  that  after  his  return,  when  he  was  chosen  a  delegate  to 
the  legislative  assembly,  he  lent  a  willing  ear  to  the  new  views 
of  Christianity  promulgated  at  Boston. 

A  great  intellectual  contest  had  been  going  on  in  the 
churches  of  New  England  ever  since  the  middle  of  the  previ 
ous  century — an  eddy  of  the  mightier  current  that  was  bear 
ing  the  civilized  world  away  from  its  ancient  anchorages,  and 
launching  it  upon  the  open  sea.  From  the  dawn  of  specula 
tive  thought  on  this  continent,  some  little  independence  of 
judgment  had  been  exhibited  by  individuals,  but  the  voices  of 
dissent  were  like  the  pipings  of  solitary  birds  in  the  forests. 
They  were  not  heard  amid  the  roar  of  orthodox  thunders. 
The  flag  of  Calvinism  was  the  only  recognized  standard  of 
faith,  and  they  who  abandoned  it  or  allowed  it  to  be  trailed  in 
the  dust,  were  thought  to  be  traitors  alike  to  their  traditions 
and  their  God.  Nor  was  the  polemic  confined  to  books  and 
sermons.  It  absorbed  the  great  body  of  the  people,  who  dis 
cussed  it  in  their  wayside  and  household  talks.  Farmers  and 
mechanics  argued  "  of  Providence,  foreknowledge,  will  and 


5  6  THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS. 

fate,  fixed  fate,  free-will,  foreknowledge  absolute,"  as  famil 
iarly  as  Milton  represents  his  more  illustrious  personages  to 
have  done  in  the  pre-Adamistic  age.  Questions  of  State,  too, 
were  mingled  with  questions  of  Church,  and  the  debate  was 
often  invigorated  and  inflamed  by  the  incitements  of  political 
as  well  as  religious  passions. 

The  battle  was  at  its  height  when  Dr.  Bryant  attended  the 
General  Court  for  several  successive  sessions.  He  began  his 
duties  in  1806,  continued  them  through  the  years  iSoS-g-12 
and  '13,  and  afterward  as  Senator  in  i8i6-'i8.  The  eloquent 
Buckminster  was  then  at  the  summit  of  his  power  as  a  preach 
er,  and  the  no  less  eloquent  William  Ellery  Channing  was 
pouring  forth  those  fervid  and  beautiful  addresses  which  have 
since  won  him  a  deathless  name.  A  Unitarian  professor  had 
been  appointed  in  Harvard  University,  and  that  seat  of  learn 
ing  was  destined  soon  to  be  wrested  from  the  hands  of  its  or 
thodox  guardians,  to  become  the  nursery  of  a  pronounced  lib 
eral  religious  sentiment.  Dr.  Bryant  listened  attentively  to 
the  innovators,  subscribed  to  their  publications,  and  carried 
back  to  Western  Massachusetts,  where  they  had  scarcely  yet 
penetrated,  the  general  doctrines  of  the  new  school. 

He  does  not  seem  to  have  neglected  his  professional  duties 
because  of  these  alien  political  and  religious  engagements. 
His  practice  widened,  and  his  reputation  as  a  learned  and 
skilful  physician  increased.  He  wrote  largely  for  medical 
and  other  periodicals,  was  consulted  by  other  physicians,  and 
attended  regularly  at  the  meetings  of  their  societies,  where  he 
became  a  prominent  authority.  Even  in  his  legislative  capa 
city  he  endeavored  to  promote  the  interests  of  his  profession, 
and  was  instrumental  in  securing  the  passage  of  laws,  intended 
to  raise  the  standard  of  medical  education  throughout  the 
State,  which  are  still  in  force.  In  his  public  as  in  his  private 
conduct  he  was  distinguished  for  his  strict  and  unswerving 
integrity.  Men  who  knew  him  best  honored  him  most ;  and 
to  this  day  the  traditions  of  his  goodness  and  justice  are  care 
fully  preserved  among  the  descendants  of  his  neighbors.  That 


THE  MOTHER'S  DILIGENCE. 


57 


he  should  have  consented  to  hide  his  fine  endowments  in  the 
obscurities  of  a  small  country  practice  is  a  proof  of  the  modest 
estimate  that  he  put  upon  himself,  and  of  his  contentment 
with  other  satisfactions  than  those  that  attend  the  pursuit  of 
riches  and  fame. 

Mrs.  SARAH  SNELL  BRYANT,  the  mother,  was  a  woman  of 
less  culture  than  her  husband,  but  of  vigorous  understanding 
and  energetic  character,  and  in  every  way  worthy  of  his  love 
and  confidence.  Having  gone  to  a  new  settlement  when  she 
was  only  six  years  of  age,  she  had  enjoyed  few  of  the  advan 
tages  of  education  ;  but  as  Mr.  John  H.  Bryant,  her  youngest 
son,  writes :  "  Amidst  the  hardships  and  privations  incident  to 
a  life  in  the  forest,  she  grew  up  to  a  stately  womanhood.  Her 
opportunities  were  necessarily  limited,  so  far  as  schools  and 
books  were  concerned,  but  she  made  a  creditable  progress 
in  all  the  rudimentary  branches  of  learning."  Her  household 
activity  and  diligence  would,  in  this  later  age  of  the  world,  be 
considered  something  marvellous.  In  the  days  of  general  im 
poverishment  after  the  war,  the  mother  of  the  household  did 
nearly  all  her  own  domestic  work.  Factories  there  were  none, 
and,  if  there  had  been  any,  the  roads  were  too  rough  to  render 
them  of  much  avail.  Each  family  had  its  own  spinning-wheels 
— a  smaller  one  in  the  corner  of  the  sitting-room,  to  which  the 
busy  foot  of  the  matron  was  applied  in  the  long  winter  even 
ings,  and  a  larger  one  in  the  hall  or  garret,  where  she  could 
walk  back  and  forth  with  the  spindle  in  her  hands,  and  twist 
the  clean  flax  or  tow  into  threads.  It  had  also  its  loom  for 
the  weaving  of  cloth,  its  carpet-frames,  its  candle-moulds,  and 
its  dye-pots  for  the  coloring  of  fabrics  from  the  extracts  of 
various  woods  and  weeds.  Mrs.  Bryant  performed  all  these 
labors.  An  idea  of  the  amount  of  them  is  obtained  from  the 
little  diary,  mentioned  in  the  poet's  narrative,  in  which  she 
registered  what  was  done  from  day  to  day  even  in  those  pe 
riods  which  are  most  trying  and  exhaustive  in  a  woman's  life. 
It  is  filled  with  such  items  as  these  :  "  Made  Austin  a  coat  " ; 
"  Spun  four  skeins  of  tow  ";  "  Spun  thirty  knots  of  linen  "  ; 


58  THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS. 

"  Taught  Cullen  his  letters  "  ;  "  Made  a  pair  of  breeches  "  ; 
"  Wove  four  yards  and  went  a-quilting  "  ;  "  Made  a  dress  for 
the  boy  "  ;  "  Sewed  on  a  shirt  "  ;  "  Wove  four  yards  and  vis 
ited  Mrs.  —  "  ;  "  Washed  and  ironed  "  ;  "  Spun  and  wove." 
And  so  the  simple  record  runs  on,  year  after  year. 

"  All  this  work  our  mother  did,"  says  Mr.  John  H.  Bryant, 
with  pardonable  pride,  "  looking  after  her  young  children, 
feeding  them  and  nursing  them  in  sickness,  teaching  them 
to  read  and  write,  which  was  faithfully  attended  to  during  their 
earlier  years,  while  she  turned  the  wheel  by  the  winter  fire. 
In  those  times  many  shifts  and  expedients  of  economy  were 
necessary  to  maintain  an  honorable  independence,  which  are 
rarely  thought  of  in  these  days,  even  by  the  poorest  people. 
Not  only  was  she  industrious  and  persevering  in  ordinary  la 
bor,  but  she  took  a  deep  interest  in  public  affairs,  both  national 
and  State,  never  neglecting  any  of  her  house  duties,  but  visit 
ing  constantly,  especially  the  sick,  whom  she  nursed  for  days 
and  nights  together.  She  exerted  a  considerable  influence  in 
township  and  neighborhood  improvements,  such  as  schools, 
roads,  etc.  It  was  through  her  persuasion  with  us  boys  that 
the  maple  and  other  shade  trees  were  planted  around  the 
homestead  and  along  the  highways.  Having  observed  some 
thing  of  the  kind  when  on  a  journey,  she  resolved  as  soon  as 
she  returned  to  have  a  similar  work  done  at  home.  These 
were  the  first  trees  set  by  the  roadside  in  all  that  region, 
where  thousands  have  since  been  planted.  She  discouraged 
all  bad  habits  in  her  household,  such  as  drinking,  tobacco 
chewing  and  smoking,  and  idleness  and  profanity.  From  this 
last  vice  I  believe  all  her  children  were  entirely  free,  for  if 
any  of  them  ever  uttered  an  oath,  I  never  heard  of  it.  I 
have  often  heard  her  exclaim,  "  Above  all  things,  I  abhor 
drunkenness  !  "  also,  "  Never  be  idle  ;  always  be  doing  some 
thing  "  ;  "  If  you  are  never  idle,  you  will  find  time  for  every 
thing."  Dr.  Johnson  says :  "  It  is  a  mortifying  reflection  to 
think  what  we  might  have  done,  compared  with  what  we 
have  done." 


THE  FAMILY  READL\\',.  ^ 

As  there  were  no  large  schools  in  the  vicinity,  the  children 
of  this  couple  were  mainly  educated  by  the  efforts  of  their 
parents.  In  the  spring  and  summer  the  young  men,  as  they 
grew  to  be  old  enough,  took  part  in  the  labors  of  the  farm, 
and  the  young  women  at  all  seasons  in  those  of  the  household  ; 
but  the  long  winter  evenings  were  given  by  both  to  study. 
Dr.  Bryant  was  something  of  a  scholar,  knowing  the  Greek, 
Latin,  and  French  languages,  and  possessing,  in  addition  to 
the  largest  medical  library  in  those  parts,  a  considerable  num 
ber  of  the  more  important  works  of  English  literature,  espe 
cially  of  the  poets,  having  been  himself  addicted  to  making 
verses.  Among  these,  according  to  a  list  which  Mr.  J.  H. 
Bryant  has  furnished  me  from  memory,  were  Hume,  Gib 
bon,  Rollin,  Russell,  Gillies,  Plutarch,  Shakespeare,  Spen 
ser,  Milton,  Dryden,  Pope,  Akenside,  Goldsmith,  Thompson, 
Burns,  Cowper,  Beattie,  Falconer,  Campbell  (Pleasures  of 
Hope),  Hogg,  Montgomery,  Rodgers,  Scott  (Lord  of  the 
Isles),  Byron  (Lara,  Bride  of  Abydos,  and  Corsair),  Southey 
(Thalaba,  and  minor  poems),  and  Wordsworth  (Lyrical  Bal 
lads),  and  in  other  departments,  Burke,  Chesterfield,  the  Spec 
tator,  Fielding,  Dr.  Johnson,  Dr.  Adam  Clark's  Travels,  Park's 
Travels,  Disraeli's  Curiosities  of  Literature,  and  Sismondi's 
Literature  of  the  South  of  Europe.  Besides  the  greater  mas 
ters,  Mr.  Cullen  Bryant  tells  us,  "there  were  '  Sanford  and 
Merton '  and  *  Little  Jack ' ;  there  were  '  Robinson  Crusoe,' 
with  its  variations  'The  Swiss  Family  Robinson'  and  'The 
New  Robinson  Crusoe ' ;  there  were  a  Mrs.  Trimmer's  '  Knowl 
edge  of  Nature '  and  Berquin's  lively  narratives  and  sketches, 
translated  from  the  French ;  there  were  '  Philip  Quarll '  and 
Watts's  'Poems  for  Children,'  Bunyan's  'Pilgrim's  Progress* 
and  Mrs.  Barbauld's  writings.  Later  we  had  Mrs.  Edge- 
worth's  '  Parent's  Assistant '  and  '  Evenings  at  Home.'  "  They 
had  also  American  versifiers  in  abundance,  Freneau,  Hum 
phreys,  Trumbull,  Dwight,  etc.,  whom  it  was  the  fashion  to 
admire  in  Dr.  Bryant's  earlier  days,  but  whom  the  children 
very  soon  ceased  to  read  with  pleasure. 


60  THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS. 

That  other  New  England  families,  particularly  in  the  cities 
and  towns,  were  more  copiously  and  variously  supplied  with 
books,  admits  of  no  doubt,  but  few,  I  venture  to  say,  living 
among  the  mountains  could  have  made  so  good  a  show.* 

Among  these  books  there  are  two  that,  in  the  circum 
stances,  are  worthy  of  note — Shakespeare  and  Wordsworth. 
The  Puritans  and  their  descendants,  down  to  a  very  recent 
time,  were  not  accustomed  to  look  with  friendly  eyes  upon 
any  of  the  playwrights.  Dr.  Channing  tells  us  that,  when  he 
and  Judge  Story  were  students  at  Harvard,  toward  the  last 
year  of  the  last  century,  a  few  young  men  got  together  quietly 
for  the  purpose  of  reading  Shakespeare's  plays,  as  if  it  were 
something  quite  unwonted.f  Indeed,  Shakespeare,  in  those 
days,  even  in  England,  if  read  at  all,  was  read  rather  for  his 
interesting  and  dramatic  stories  than  for  the  exquisite  poetry 
in  which  they  are  embedded ;  and  it  is  to  be  presumed  that 
the  Bryant  children  read  him  in  that  way.  But  as  they  ad 
vanced  in  years,  Mr.  Arthur  Bryant  informs  me,  their  minds 
gradually  opened  to  those  higher  qualities  which  English, 
guided  by  German,  criticism,  has  since  discovered  in  his 
pages.  Wordsworth's  Lyrical  Ballads  were  first  published  in 
1798  (a  small  volume  of  210  pages),  and  a  second  edition,  in 
two  volumes,  in  1800,  from  which  a  Philadelphia  reprint  was 


*  Mr.  George  Ticknor,  writing  of  Boston,  a  principal  city,  and  of  one  of  its  most 
wealthy  and  conspicuous  families,  in  the  years  i8o8-'n,  says  that  in  those  days  books 
"  were  by  no  means  so  accessible  as  they  are  now.  Few,  comparatively,  were  pub 
lished  in  the  United  States,  and,  as  it  was  the  dreary  period  of  the  commercial  restric 
tions  that  preceded  the  war  of  1812  with  England,  still  fewer  were  imported.  Even 
good  school-books  were  not  easily  obtained.  A  copy  of  Euripides  in  the  original 
could  not  be  bought  in  any  bookseller's  shop  in  New  England,  and  was  with  diffi 
culty  borrowed.  The  best  publications  that  appeared  in  Great  Britain  came  to  us 
slowly  and  were  seldom  reprinted.  New  books  from  the  Continent  hardly  reached 
us  at  all.  Men  felt  poor  and  anxious  in  those  dark  days,  and  literary  indulgences, 
which  have  now  become  as  necessary  to  us  as  our  daily  food,  were  luxuries  enjoyed 
by  few."  —  "Life  of  William  Hickling  Prescott."  By  George  Ticknor.  Boston: 
Ticknor  £  Fields,  1864.  Page  9. 

f  "  Memoirs  of  William  Ellery  Channing,"  vol.  i.     Boston,  1848. 


DEVOTION  TO  BOOKS.  6l 

made  in  1802.*  Dr.  Bryant  purchased  a  copy  of  them  in  Bos 
ton  in  1 8 10,  and  took  them  home,  where  they  were  read  with 
no  little  admiration.  The  "  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner," 
and  "  Love,"  by  an  anonymous  friend,  which  the  book  con 
tained,  were  at  first  thought  to  be  superior  to  the  other 
pieces ;  but  in  time  the  principal  poet  took  entire  possession 
of  their  hearts.f  It  would  thus  seem  that,  while  the  great  dis 
pensers  of  British  criticism  were  pouring  out  their  unmeas 
ured  ridicule  upon  Wordsworth,  he  had  found  a  small  band 
of  delighted  appreciators  in  the  backwoods  of  America.  J 

All  the  works,  indeed,  of  this  small  library  were  kept  for 
use,  and  not  for  ornament.  The  Doctor  himself  was  so  de 
voted  a  reader  that  he  always  carried  some  of  them  with  him 
in  his  professional  rounds,  and,  when  he  chanced  to  stop  at  a 
house  where  a  new  book  of  any  value  lay  on  the  shelf  or  the 
table,  he  was  soon  lost  in  the  perusal  of  it,  sometimes  forget 
ting  alike  his  patients  and  his  meals  in  the  intensity  of  his 
interest,  until  reminded  that  he  must  break  off  if  he  wished  to 
get  home  before  nightfall.  The  mother  was  not  so  eager  and 
liberal  in  her  tastes,  but  she  too  managed,  amid  her  many 
avocations,  to  attain  a  knowledge  of  the  leading  historians,  of 
the  best  essayists,  and  of  Pope  and  Cowper.  As  for  the  chil 
dren,  an  aged  lady  who  lived  near  by  told  me  once  that  she 
never  passed  the  Bryant  house  of  a  winter  evening  and  looked 
into  the  windows  without  seeing  three  or  four  great  hulks  of 
boys  stretched  out,  with  their  backs  on  the  floor  and  their 
heads  toward  the  birchwood  fire,  which  was  the  only  light, 
each  one  deeply  immersed  in  his  book.  As  they  read,  children- 


*  "Memoirs  of  William  Wordsworth,"  vol.  i,  p.  176,  note  by  Henry  Reed.  Bos 
ton  :  Ticknor,  Reed  &  Fields,  1851. 

f  Cullen  was  then  at  school  or  college,  and  did  not  read  the  book  till  some  time 
afterward. 

\  In  1814  Jeffrey  allowed  himself  to  speak  of  the  Excursion  as  "a  tissue  of  moral 
and  devotional  ravings,"  "a  hubbub  of  strained  raptures  and  fantastic  sublimities." 
As  late  as  1822,  Southey,  in  a  letter  to  Landor,  referred  to  "  the  dunccry  and  malig 
nity  "  with  which  Wordsworth  was  still  assaulted. — Landor's  Works,  vol.  i,  p.  230. 


62  THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS. 

like,  without  much  discrimination,  Pope  was  a  great  favorite 
with  all  of  them,  but  particularly  so  with  the  father,  who  be 
longed  to  the  generation  for  which  he  had  written,  and  who 
shared  in  its  opinion,  expressed  by  no  less  a  critic  than  John 
son,  that  Pope's  verses  were  the  acme  of  poetic  excellence. 
The  children  preferred  his  Homer  to  his  other  works,  the 
sounding  and  mellifluous  couplets  of  which  they  found  it  easy 
to  retain  and  to  recite  aloud.  As  they  advanced  in  life  and 
judgment,  Pope  was  dethroned  for  other  favorites,  such  as 
Spenser,  whose  stories  of  giants,  knights,  fairies,  and  fair  ladies, 
told  in  the  sweetest  of  numbers,  are  so  apt,  singly  if  not  col 
lectively,  to  captivate  the  fancy  of  the  young.*  Milton,  the 
traditionary  bard  of  the  Puritans,  is  of  too  lofty  a  strain,  gen 
erally,  to  commend  himself  to  youth,  so  that  Cowper's  plainer 
sense,  coupled  with  an  equally  fervent  religiousness,  rendered 
him  a  more  familiar  companion.  Scott  and  Byron  were  read, 
as  each  of  their  works  appeared,  with  much  pleasure,  yet  with 
some  dissent.  When  Wordsworth  came,  these  "  striplings  of 
the  hills,"  to  use  one  of  his  own  phrases,  who  knew  nothing  of 
the  theories  of  poetry,  which  he  paraded  in  his  prefaces,  speed 
ily  felt  his  charms.  They  found  in  his  nice  observations  of 
nature,  his  simplicity  of  diction,  his  moral  purity  and  eleva 
tion,  truthful  expressions  of  what  had  always  been  a  part  of 
their  daily  experience.  The  mountain  scenery  he  describes  so 
lovingly  was  lying  in  all  its  substantial  features  before  them, 
and,  as  they  climbed  the  hills  or  roamed  the  woods  together 
declaiming  his  more  impressive  passages,  they  were  enabled 
to  attest  his  fidelity  to  real  life,  so  far  as  it  was  known  in  their 
humble  sphere. 

Excepting  what  he  was  able  to  find  in  nature  and  in  books, 
the  companionships  of  our  poet,  in  his  childhood,  were  confined 
almost  exclusively  to  the  members  of  his  own  family.  Their 
home  was  at  a  considerable  remove  from  other  habitations. 


*  Mr.  Bryant  once  told  me  that  he  had  read  the  "  Faerie  Queen"  many  times 
through. 


LOVE  OF   THE    WOODS  AND  FIELDS.  63 

Whatever  sports  they  engaged  in  they  were  compelled  to  de 
vise  for  themselves  out  of  their  heads  or  out  of  their  reading. 
They  had  none  of  the  advantages  of  great  schools,  of  music, 
of  art,  of  theatres,  of  social  gatherings  and  games,  and  of  visits 
to  strange  scenes  and  houses,  which  the  youth  of  the  present 
generation  enjoy.  Of  public  amusements  there  were  none. 
Those  rude  rustic  assemblages,  which  the  autobiography 
speaks  of — the  sugar  camps,  the  corn  huskings,  the  house  rais 
ings,  and  the  singing  schools — were  infrequent,  and,  at  the 
best,  could  have  possessed  but  little  attractiveness  for  refined 
and  youthful  minds,  and  there  was  nothing  in  them  or  in  any 
of  their  incidents  to  stir  or  expand  the  imagination  or  to  kindle 
the  best  affections  of  the  heart. 

Nevertheless,  there  was  one  amusement  the  elder  brothers 
were  able  to  take  together,  which  did  not  depend  upon  other 
company,  and  with  the  delights  of  which  they  were  never 
sated.  This  was  the  exploration  of  the  surrounding  fields  and 
forests,  which  presented  attractions  varying  with  the  varying 
seasons  of  the  year,  but  ever  full  and  ever  new.  Day  after 
day  they  scoured  the  depths  of  the  woods,  climbing  the  hills 
or  descending  into  the  ravines,  until  there  was  not  a  thicket,  a 
precipice,  a  brooklet,  or  even  a  tree,  with  which  they  were 
not  as  well  acquainted  as  they  were  with  the  objects  of  their 
own  house.  These  rambles  were  not,  of  course,  made  merely 
for  the  sake  of  the  scenery;  boys,  as  I  apprehend  it,  do 
not  care  much  for  scenery  in  itself,  which  they  take  in  by 
the  eye  as  unconsciously  as  they  breathe  the  air.  Their  real 
objects  when  they  go  abroad,  if  they  have  any  beyond  the 
joys  of  mere  physical  exercise,  are  squirrels,  birds'  nests, 
wood-chucks,  rabbits,  and  fruits  and  nuts  in  their  seasons. 
Nature  is  only  the  background  or  adjunct  of  their  sports,  and 
mixes  herself  gradually  with  the  substance  of  their  minds,  as 
the  glow  of  health  mixes  with  the  blood  of  the  body.* 

*  Wordsworth,  in  the  Prelude,  has  finely  illustrated  the  influence  of  what  he  calls 
"  collateral  objects  and  appearances  "  in  impregnating  and  elevating  the  mind. — Po- 
eiical  Works,  vol.  vii,  p.  30.  Boston. 


64  THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS. 

Our  youngsters,  like  others,  were  alive  to  these  special 
pursuits  (although  in  later  life  Mr.  Bryant  evinced  a  vehe 
ment  repugnance  to  all  kinds  of  needless  life-taking),  and  they 
coupled  with  them  the  higher  pleasures  of  botanical  research, 
which  they  had  learned  from  their  father,  and  of  declaiming 
aloud  what  they  had  read,  amid  the  silence  and  solitude  of 
the  fields.  Cullen  was  particularly  fond  of  composing  his 
own  little  bits  of  verse,  while  wandering  alone,  and  he  refers 
to  the  practice  in  one  of  his  earlier  poems.* 

This  family,  living  so  far  from  any  considerable  town,  in 
a  region  almost  inaccessible  at  the  best  of  seasons,  and  for  a 
greater  part  of  the  year  buried  in  snow,  enjoyed  few  opportu 
nities  of  intercourse  with  the  outside  world.  The  post  brought 
them  newspapers  and  letters  once  a  week,  if  the  snow  per 
mitted  ;  and  all  communication  with  the  towns  was  made  on 
horseback.  Visitors  of  educated  tastes  and  polished  manners 
were  only  occasional.  Dr.  Bryant  corresponded  with  men  of 
note,  and  in  his  periodical  visits  at  Northampton,  to  attend  the 
meetings  of  the  County  Medical  Society,  he  met  many  of  the 
most  accomplished  members  of  his  profession.  He  shared 
with  them,  also,  the  hospitalities  of  Judge  Lyman's  house, 
which  was  the  resort  of  the  most  eminent  and  cultivated  per 
sons  of  the  day — governors,  senators,  judges,  lawyers,  and  lit 
erary  men.  Otherwise,  his  nearest  friend,  Mr.  Samuel  Howe, 
then  a  lawyer  of  local  repute,  and  afterward  Judge  of  the 
Court  of  Common  Pleas  and  Professor  of  the  Law  School  at 
Northampton,  lived  at  a  distance  of  four  miles,  in  the  little 
village  of  Worthington.  Congenial  tastes  and  rare  elevation 
and  purity  of  character  rendered  his  society  particularly  agree 
able  to  the  Doctor.f  Judges  Howe  and  Lyman  were  men  of 
the  old  school,  as  it  is  called,  who  retained  the  grand  manner 

*  See  the  original  poem  as  it  appears  in  the  note  to  Poetical  Works,  vol.  i. 
"  I  cannot  forget  the  high  spells  that  enchanted." 

f  Judge  Howe  died  in  1820.  There  is  an  article  on  his  life  and  character  in  the 
"  Christian  Examiner,"  vol.  v,  No.  3.  See  also  an  address  to  the  Suffolk  bar  by  Chief 
Justice  Parker.  Boston  :  Nathan  Hales,  1820. 


FRIENDS  AND  ACQUAINTANCES.  65 

of  colonial  times,  uniting  dignity  and  grace  of  deportment 
to  fine  intellectual  endowments,  wide  reading,  liberality  of 
thought  and  act,  and  public  spirit.  They  were,  moreover, 
happily  married  to  sisters,  that  were  in  every  way  worthy  of 
their  own  excellences.  Mr.  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  says  that 
he  had  never  seen  "  so  stately  and  naturally  distinguished  a 
pair  as  Judge  and  Mrs.  Lyman.  She  was  a  queenly  woman," 
he  adds,  "  nobly  formed,  in  perfect  health,  made  for  society, 
with  flowing  conversation,  high  spirits,  and  consummate  ease."* 
Mrs.  Howe,  no  less  notable  for  force  and  cultivation  of  mind 
and  for  sweetness  and  beauty  of  life,  became  in  later  years  the 
delight  and  ornament  of  her  circle  at  Cambridge,  where  the 
fragrance  of  her  graces  and  virtues  still  lingers.f  These  no 
ble  and  accomplished  people  held  Dr.  Bryant  in  high  esteem, 
always  speaking  of  him  as  "  the  wise  and  learned  Dr.  Bryant," 
or,  "  the  good  and  learned  Dr.  Bryant,"  whose  "  fellowship 
was  always  a  great  resource."  Through  their  assistance,  as 
well  as  on  account  of  his  own  merits,  he  must  have  been  in 
troduced,  when  he  went  to  Boston  as  a  legislator,  to  many  of 
the  best  men  and  women  of  the  capital  of  the  Commonwealth  ; 
but  of  this  fact  no  record  now  remains.  We  only  know,  as 
the  autobiography  says,  that  he  carried  with  him  a  metropoli 
tan  air,  and  that  distinguished  bearing  which  is  derived  from 
habitual  intercourse  with  persons  of  culture  and  social  emi 
nence. 

The  isolation  and  retirement  in  which  they  lived  defended 
the  younger  members  of  the  family,  no  doubt,  from  vices  and 
follies  that  are  the  result  of  contagious  example,  and  preserved 
in  them  a  simplicity  of  manner  and  taste  which  they  never 
abandoned.  But  it  left  the  impress  also  upon  our  poet  of  an 
austerity  of  deportment  that  he  did  not  completely  overcome 

*  "  Private  Memoirs  of  Mrs.  Lyman."     Cambridge,  1876. 

f  "Memoirs  and  Letters  of  Charles  Sumncr."  Boston,  1877.  Mrs.  Lyman,  I  never 
knew  personally,  but  Mrs.  Howe,  I  have  met  at  the  house  of  her  son-in-law,  George 
S.  Hillard,  of  Boston,  and  am  able  to  confirm  all  that  is  said  of  her  accomplishments 
and  elevation  of  character. 


VOL.  i. — ( 


66  THE  BRYANT  FAMILY  AND  ANCESTORS. 

in  after  life.  Up  to  the  time  of  his  going  to  college  in  his  six 
teenth  year,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he  had  seen  anything  at  all 
of  the  social  world,  outside  of  his  immediate  relatives  and  their 
scattered  neighbors.  It  does  not  appear,  by  the  diary,  that  he 
was  ever  taken  to  Northampton  by  his  father  during  the  many 
visits  that  were  made  to  that  place ;  *  and,  if  he  had  been,  it  is 
not  likely  that  the  shy  and  modest  boy,  dressed  in  his  mother's 
homespun,  would  have  been  disposed  to  profit  by  the  opportu 
nities  afforded  him  by  its  somewhat  gay  and  polished  society. 
When  he  became  a  student  of  law  at  Bridgewater,  he  lamented 
his  want  of  those  graceful  and  presentable  qualities  that  are 
acquired  by  commerce  with  men.  It  must  not  be  supposed, 
however,  that  he  was  uncouth  or  awkward,  as  country  yonkers 
are  apt  to  be ;  for  his  native  delicacy  and  refinement  of  fibre, 
and  the  example  of  his  father,  saved  him  from  every  appearance 
of  rusticity.  He  was  merely  sensitive  and  retiring,  and  often 
fled  from  the  encounter  of  strangers.  Once  freed  from  the 
constraints  of  their  presence,  he  was  instinctively  courteous, 
graceful,  and  easy. 

*  Mr.  Congdon  says  ("  Reminiscences  of  a  Journalist,"  p.  33,  Boston,  Osgood  & 
Co.,  1880)  that  Cullen  was  once  brought  to  New  Bedford  by  his  father  ;  but  that  was 
likely  not  until  1820. 


CHAPTER    FOURTH. 

THE   BOY   POET  AND   POLITICIAN. 

ALL  the  children  of  Dr.  Bryant  were  practiced  in  reading 
verses,  but  Cullen  took  a  livelier  interest  in  them  than  the 
others,  and  at  an  earlier  age.  When  he  was  but  five  years  old, 
as  the  good  mother  delighted  to  inform  her  younger  children, 
he  used  to  clamber  upon  a  high  chair — formed  of  a  one-leafed 
table,  which,  after  having  served  for  meals,  was  pushed  back 
against  the  wall,  as  a  seat — and  preach.  This  preaching,  as  he 
called  it,  was  the  declamation  of  certain  of  Watts's  Hymns, 
which  he  had  learned  at  his  mother's  knee,  or  from  hearing 
them  repeated  in  the  church  and  at  prayer  meetings.  Those 
which  he  commonly  selected  are  known  by  their  first  lines  as, 
"  Come,  sound  his  praise  abroad,"  "  Now,  in  the  heat  of  youth 
ful  blood,"  "  Early,  my  God,  without  delay,"  "  Life  is  the  time 
to  serve  the  Lord,"  and  "  Ere  the  blue  heavens  were  spread 
abroad."  The  sentiment  of  these  pieces  is,  for  the  most  part, 
exceedingly  sombre,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  child  under 
stood  as  little  of  them  as  the  autobiography  says  he  did  of  the 
darker  parts  of  the  Westminster  Catechism.  These  displays 
were  made  freely  enough  before  the  family ;  but,  if  any  stran 
gers  appeared,  he  was  more  bashful  than  a  girl,  and  hid  him 
self  behind  the  first  object  he  could  find,  even  the  rung  of  a 
chair.* 

*  I  may  here  narrate  an  incident  which  shows  the  effect  of  what  the  scientists  ca!l 
Heredity.  A  few  years  ago,  an  old  gentleman  from  New  Orleans,  whose  name  I 
have  now  forgotten,  called  at  the  house  of  his  married  daughter,  where  Mr.  Bryant 
was  then  living,  to  see  the  poet,  whom  he  had  not  seen  since  his  childhood.  As  he 
entered  the  waiting-room,  a  grandson  of  Mr.  Bryant — a  little  fellow  of  four  or  five 


68  THE  BOY  POET  AND  POLITICIAN. 

In  his  eighth  year,  as  we  learn  from  a  letter,*  he  began  to 
make  verses  of  his  own,  and  he  continued  to  do  so,  according 
to  the  autobiography,  in  his  ninth  year.  When  he  was  ten 
years  old,  he  was  appointed  to  deliver  an  address  at  the  school 
examination,  which  took  place  in  the  presence  of  the  teacher, 
clergyman,  deacons,  selectmen,  and  visitors.  This  he  wrote  in 
heroic  couplets,  choosing  for  his  theme  the  progress  of  knowl 
edge  in  general,  and  of  the  school  in  particular,  saluting,  as  he 
passed  on,  each  class  of  his  hearers  with  a  graceful  compli 
ment.  These  verses  were  afterward  printed  in  the  newspaper 
of  the  county,  the  Hampshire  "Gazette,"  of  March  18,  1807, 
where  they  appear  under  the  signature  of  C.  B.  They  must 
have  acquired  more  than  a  local  repute,  inasmuch  as  they 
became  a  stock  piece  for  recitation  in  other  schools.  Only  a 
few  years  since  an  elderly  lady  living  in  another  part  of  the 
State  enclosed  them  in  a  note  to  Mr.  Bryant,  saying  that  she 
had  learned  them  as  a  little  girl.f  Other  pieces  of  verse  were 
sent  anonymously  to  the  paper  about  the  same  time,  but  they 
cannot  now  be  identified. 

His  principal  sources  of  inspiration  were  the  political  ex 
citements  of  the  times,  so  that  he  was  a  politician  quite  as 
soon  as  he  was  a  poet ;  or,  perhaps,  it  would  be  more  correct 
to  say  that  in  childhood,  as  in  later  life,  he  was  an  active  citi 
zen.  Never,  perhaps,  in  our  political  history  have  the  conten 
tions  of  party  been  more  violent  and  acrimonious  than  they 
were  during  the  second  administration  of  President  Jefferson, 
and  they  were  particularly  violent  and  acrimonious  in  New 
England,  where  the  free  religious  opinions  of  the  President 
gave  great  offence  to  the  Puritanic  mind.  It  had  become 

years  of  age,  who  had  been  playing  on  the  floor — instantly  shot  behind  the  leg  of  a 
table,  where  he  tried  to  hide  himself  in  perfect  silence.  "  More  than  fifty  years  ago," 
said  the  visitor,  "  I  entered  Dr.  Bryant's  study,  and  a  little  chap  with  flaxen  hair  and 
flashing  eyes  did  precisely  the  same  thing,  in  the  same  manner  in  every  respect.  It 
was  Cullen  ;  and  here  he  is  again." 

*  Written  in  1877  to  Mr.  George  Stuart,  Jr. 

f  On  the  back  part  of  this  note  Mr.  Bryant  has  written,  "  Some  lines  by  a  very 
little  boy." 


POLITICS  IN  OLD    TIMES.  fy 

necessary  for  the  United  States,  or  it  was  thought  to  be  neces 
sary  by  the  party  in  possession  of  the  Federal  government, 
because  of  the  English  declaration  of  a  continental  blockade 
in  May  of  1806,  followed  by  the  order  in  council  of  Novem 
ber,  1807,  wrhich  had  provoked  the  retaliatory  decree  of  Na 
poleon  at  Berlin  in  November,  1806,  and  at  Milan  in  Decem 
ber,  1 807,  to  take  action  against  these  arbitrary  and  outrageous 
violations  of  the  rights  of  neutrality.  The  doctrine  of  non- 
intercourse  or  of  non-importation,  which  had  been  a  favorite 
one  in  the  early  stages  of  the  Revolution,  and  which,  during 
the  administration  of  Washington,  had  been  applied  for  a 
short  time  in  the  form  of  an  embargo  upon  foreign  trade,  was 
again  put  in  practice ;  but  the  enforcement  of  it  was  so  dis 
astrous  to  our  commerce  that  it  raised  immediately  an  out 
cry  of  alarm  and  rebuke.  This  outcry  was  loudest  and  most 
vehement  in  New  England,  which  already  carried  on  an  ex 
tensive  commerce  with  foreign  ports.  The  discussion  of  the 
subject  aroused,  in  addition  to  the  usual  passions  of  party,  the 
fiercest  resentments  of  selfishness.  Indeed,  in  a  little  while 
the  controversy  was  not  so  much  the  discussion  of  a  question 
of  economic  and  political  principle  as  an  outbreak  of  private 
and  party  animosities.  The  zealots  on  both  sides  looked  upon 
each  other,  not  as  men  differing  in  opinion,  and  having  a  right 
to  differ,  but  as  criminals  and  scamps.  Family  ties  and  an 
cient  friendships  were  often  broken  by  political  dissensions. 
In  the  eyes  of  a  Federalist  nearly  every  Democrat  was  a  fel 
low  of  low  habits  and  brutal  manners,  and  in  the  eyes  of  a 
Democrat  nearly  every  Federalist  was  an  upstart  and  the 
sworn  ally  of  monarchists  and  tyrants.  Unhappily,  this  will 
ful  misunderstanding  was  not  confined  to  the  ignorant  classes 
of  society.  "  My  father,"  writes  Miss  C.  M.  Sedgwick,  in  a 
private  diary,  "  one  of  the  kindest  of  men,  and  most  observant 
of  the  rights  of  all  beneath  him,  habitually  spoke  of  the  people 
as  Jacobins,  sansculottes,  and  miscreants.  I  remember  well." 
she  adds,  "  looking  upon  a  Democrat  as  the  enemy  of  his 
country,  and  at  the  party  as  sure,  if  it  prevailed,  to  work  our 


;0  THE  BOY  POET  AND  POLITICIAN. 

destruction."  These  hostile  convictions  and  prejudices  were 
fostered  by  the  newspapers  of  the  day,  which  put  no  qualifica 
tion  or  stint  upon  their  utterances.  They  were  so  furious  in 
their  zeal,  so  unrelenting  in  their  hatred,  so  coarse  and  brutal 
in  their  modes  of  speech,  that  young  Buckminster,  writing  to 
his  father  from  Paris  in  1806,  deprecates  their  excessive  vio 
lence  and  bitterness  as  a  serious  damage  to  the  reputation  of 
the  Republic.  "  I  only  wish,"  he  said,  "  I  could  let  my  friends 
in  political  life  in  America  know  how  painful,  how  mortifying, 
how  disgusting,  how  low,  how  infamous  appear  the  animosi 
ties  and  calumnies  with  which  our  American  papers  are  filled. 
I  am  called  every  day  to  blush  for  the  state  of  society  among 
us,  and  attempt  but  in  vain  to  say  something  in  our  defence. 
There  is  nothing  I  have  more  at  heart  than  to  impress  upon 
the  minds  of  my  countrymen  the  grievous  injury  which  we 
suffer  in  Europe  from  the  complexion  of  our  newspapers  and 
the  brutality  of  our  party  spirit — the  infamy  of  our  political 
disputes."  * 

Dr.  Bryant  was  an  earnest  Federalist,  and  as  a  legislator, 
who  counseled  with  the  leading  men  of  his  party  at  Boston, 
more  earnest  than  others  less  exposed  to  the  heats  of  the  con 
clave.  He  not  only  read  the  journals  of  his  party,  but  he 
allowed  his  family  to  read  them,  and  his  sons  caught  the  pre 
vailing  rage.  One  day  having  accidentally  discovered  in  the 
handwriting  of  Cullen,  the  following  apostrophe  to  Jefferson, 
the  leader  of  the  Democrats,  he  was  naturally  very  much  de 
lighted  with  it,  and  thought  it  an  effective  political  weapon,  if 
not  very  fine  poetry. 

"  And  them,  the  scorn  of  every  patriot  name, 
Thy  country's  ruin  and  thy  council's  shame ! 
Poor  servile  thing !  derision  of  the  brave  ! 
Who  erst  from  Tarleton  fled  to  Carter's  cave ; 
Thou,  who,  when  menac'd  by  perfidious  Gaul, 
Didst  prostrate  to  her  whisker'd  minion  fall ; 

*  "  Memoirs  of  Rev.  J.  S.  Buckminster,"  by  Eliza  Buckminster  Lee.     Boston: 
Ticknor,  Reed  £  Fields,  1857. 


A  FLING  AT  JEFFERSON.  ji 

And  when  our  cash  her  empty  bags  supply 'd, 
Didst  meanly  strive  the  foul  disgrace  to  hide ; 
Go,  wretch,  resign  the  presidential  chair, 
Disclose  thy  secret  measures,  foul  or  fair. 
Go,  search  with  curious  eye  for  horned  frogs, 
Mid  the  wild  wastes  of  Louisianian  bogs ; 
Or,  where  Ohio  rolls  his  turbid  stream, 
Dig  for  huge  bones,  thy  glory  and  thy  theme. 
Go,  scan,  Philosophist,  thy  Sally's  charms, 
And  sink  supinely  in  her  sable  arms; 
But  quit  to  abler  hands  the  helm  of  state." 

The  doctor  encouraged  the  boy  to  prosecute  his  invective, 
which  he  did  to  the  extent  of  five  hundred  lines  and  more,  all 
pretty  much  in  the  same  strain.  These  the  father  carried  to 
Boston  with  him,  where  he  had  them  printed  in  a  pamphlet 
under  the  title  of  "  The  Embargo,  or  Sketches  of  the  Times ; 
a  Satire,  by  a  youth  of  thirteen ;  Boston  ;  Printed  for  the  Pur 
chasers,  1808."  Flattering  the  prejudices  of  the  dominant  fac 
tion,  this  philippic  attracted  a  good  deal  of  attention  and  was 
speedily  sold.  The  "  Monthly  Anthology  " — the  great  critical 
authority  of  the  period — spoke  in  complimentary  terms  of  the 
effort,  saying : 

"  If  this  poem  be  really  written  by  a  youth  of  thirteen,  it  must  be 
acknowledged  an  extraordinary  performance.  We  have  never  met 
with  a  boy  of  that  age  who  had  attained  to  such  a  command  of  lan 
guage  and  to  so  much  poetic  phraseology.  Though  the  poem  is  un 
equal,  and  there  are  some  flat  and  prosaic  passages,  yet  there  is  no 
small  portion  of  fire  and  some  excellent  lines." 

It  then  quotes  the  following  passage  : 

"  Look  where  we  will,  and  in  whatever  land, 
Europe's  rich  soil,  or  Afric's  barren  sand, 
Where  the  wild  savage  hunts  his  wilder  prey, 
Or  art  and  science  pour  their  brightest  day. 
The  monster,  Vice,  appears  before  our  eyes, 
In  naked  impudence,  or  gay  disguise. 


72  THE  BOY  POET  AND  POLITICIAN. 

"  But  quit  the  meaner  game,  indignant  Muse, 
And  to  thy  country  turn  thy  nobler  views; 
Ill-fated  clime !  condemned  to  feel  th'  extremes 
Of  a  weak  ruler's  philosophic  dreams ; 
Driven  headlong  on  to  ruin's  fateful  brink, 
When  will  thy  country  feel — when  will  she  think  ! 

"  Satiric  Muse,  shall  injured  Commerce  weep 
Her  ravished  rights,  and  will  thy  thunders  sleep  ; 
Dart  thy  keen  glances,  knit  thy  threat'ning  brows, 
Call  fire  from  heaven  to  blast  thy  country's  foes. 
Oh  !  let  a  youth  thine  inspiration  learn — 
Oh  !  give  him  '  words  that  breathe  and  thoughts  that  burn  !  ' 

*'  Curse  of  our  nation,  source  of  countless  woes, 
From  whose  dark  womb  unreckoned  misery  flows  ; 
Th'  Embargo  rages,  like  a  sweeping  wind, 
Fear  lowers  before,  and  famine  stalks  behind." 

The  Reviewer  "  regrets  that  the  young  poet  has  dared  to 
aim  the  satiric  shaft  against  our  excellent  President,  but  as 
the  lines  are  a  good  specimen  of  the  author's  powers,  we 
cannot  resist  the  temptation  of  quoting  them,  conscious  that 
the  first  magistrate  of  this  country,  secure  in  the  impen 
etrable  armor  of  moral  rectitude,  '  smiles  at  the  drawn  dag 
ger  and  defies  its  point.' "  Here  follow  the  lines  on  Jeffer 
son,  already  cited  in  a  former  page;  but  a  more  vigorous 
passage  might  perhaps  have  been  found  in  this  description 
of  the  factious  demagogue : 

"  E'en  while  I  sing,  see  Faction  urge  her  claim, 
Mislead  with  falsehood,  and  with  zeal  inflame ; 
Lift  her  black  banner,  spread  her  empire  wide, 
And  stalk  triumphant  with  a  Fury's  stride. 
She  blows  her  brazen  trump,  and  at  the  sound 
A  motley  throng,  obedient,  flock  around ; 
A  mist  of  changing  hue  o'er  all  she  flings, 
And  darkness  perches  on  her  dragon  wings  ! 


THE  FIRST  PUBLICATION.  73 

"  As  Johnson  deep,  as  Addison  refm'd, 
And  skill'd  to  pour  conviction  o'er  the  mind, 
Oh  might  some  patriot  rise  !  the  gloom  dispel, 
Chase  Error's  mist,  and  break  her  magic  spell ! 

"  But  vain  the  wish,  for  hark  !  the  murmuring  meed 
Of  hoarse  applause  from  yonder  shed  proceed ; 
Enter  and  view  the  thronging  concourse  there, 
Intent,  with  gaping  mouth  and  stupid  stare ; 
While,  in  the  midst,  their  supple  leader  stands, 
Harangues  aloud,  and  flourishes  his  hands; 
To  adulation  tunes  his  servile  throat, 
And  sues,  successful,  for  each  blockhead's  vote." 

The  prompt  sale  of  the  satire,  coupled  with  the  implied 
challenge  of  the  criticism,  induced  the  father  the  next  year  to 
bring  out  a  second  edition,  in  which  the  title  ran  thus :  "  The 
Embargo,  or  Sketches  of  the  Times ;  a  Satire ;  Second  Edi 
tion,  corrected  and  enlarged  ;  together  with  the  Spanish  Rev 
olution,  and  other  Poems.  By  William  Cullen  Bryant.  Bos 
ton.  Printed  for  the  author,  by  E.  G.  House,  No.  35  Court 
Street;  1809."*  Prefixed  to  the  verses  was  this  "  advertise 
ment  " : 

"  A  doubt  having  been  intimated  in  the  "  Monthly  Anthology  "  of 
June  last  whether  a  youth  of  thirteen  years  could  have  been  the  author 
of  this  poem — in  justice  to  his  merits  the  friends  of  the  writer  feel 
obliged  to  certify  the  fact  from  their  personal  knowledge  of  himself 
and  his  family,  as  well  as  of  his  literary  improvement  and  extraordi 
nary  talents.  They  would  premise  that  they  do  not  come  uncalled 
before  the  public  to  bear  this  testimony.  They  would  prefer  that 
he  should  be  judged  by  his  works,  without  favor  or  affection.  As  the 
doubt  has  been  suggested,  they  deem  it  merely  an  act  of  justice  to 
remove  it — after  which  they  leave  him  a  candidate  for  favor  in  com 
mon  with  other  literary  adventurers.  They,  therefore,  assure  the 
public  that  Mr.  Bryant,  the  author,  is  a  native  of  Cummington,  in 

*  A  copy  of  this  is  to  be  seen  in  the  New  York  Historical  Library — the  only  one 
I  have  been  able  to  find. 


74 


THE  BOY  POET  AND  POLITICIAN. 


the  county  of  Hampshire,  and  in  the  month  of  November  last  arrived 
at  the  age  of  fourteen  years.  These  facts  can  be  authenticated  by 
many  of  the  inhabitants  of  that  place,  as  well  as  by  several  of  his 
friends  who  give  this  notice  ;  and,  if  it  be  deemed  worthy  of  further 
inquiry,  the  printer  is  enabled  to  disclose  their  names  and  places  of 
residence.  February,  1809." 

As  the  writer  had  now  put  his  name  in  full  to  the  title- 
page,  he  thought  it  advisable  to  prefix  also  a  Preface,  in  the 
approved  style  of  authorship.  He  said  : 

"  PREFACE. 

"  The  first  sketch  of  the  following  poem  appeared  when  the  terra 
pin  policy  of  our  administration,  in  imposing  the  embargo,  exhibited 
undeniable  evidence  of  its  hostility  to  commerce,  and  proof  positive 
that  its  political  character  was  deeply  tinctured  with  an  unwarrant 
able  partiality  for  France. 

"  Since  that  time  our  political  prospects  are  daily  growing  more 
and  more  alarming — the  thunders  of  approaching  ruin  sound  louder 
and  louder — and.  faction  and  falsehood  exert  themselves  with  increas 
ing  efforts  to  accelerate  the  downfall  of  our  country. 

"  Should  the  candid  reader  find  anything  in  the  course  of  the 
work  sufficiently  interesting  to  arrest  his  attention,  it  is  presumed  he 
will  not  grudge  the  trouble  of  laboring  through  a  few  '  inequalities,' 
a  few  '  flat  and  prosaic  passages.'  * 

"  The  poem  is  intended  merely  as  a  sketch  of  the  times.  The 
nice  distinctions,  the  adequate  proportions,  the  light  and  shade  which 
give  life  and  beauty  to  the  picture,  require  some  maturer  and  more 
skillful  hand. 

"  The  writer  is  far  from  thinking  that  all  his  errors  are  expunged, 
or  all  his  faults  corrected.  Indeed,  were  that  the  case,  he  is  suspi 
cious  that  the  '  composition  '  would  cease  to  be  his  own. 

"  Fair  criticism  he  does  not  deprecate.     He  will  consider  the  in 
genuous  and  good-natured  critic  as  a  kind  of  schoolmaster,  and  will 
endeavor  to  profit  by  his  lessons. 
"CUMMINGTON,  October  25,  1808." 

*  A  slight  fling  at  his  critic  of  the  "  Anthology." 


SCRIPTURAL    VERSIONS. 


75 


Of  the  new  poems  in  this  second  edition,  the  longest 
called  "  The  Spanish  Revolution,"  a  hundred  and  thirty-five 
lines,  in  the  heroic  measure  also,  celebrating  the  efforts  of  the 
Spanish  patriots  to  resist  the  incursions  of  Napoleon.  A  few 
couplets  describing  a  battle  scene,  which  the  boy,  no  doubt, 
thought  extremely  fine,  must  satisfy  the  reader's  curiosity. 

"  And  now  the  peasantry,  awaked  to  rage, 
With  Gallic  armies  'mid  the  streets  engage ; 
How  dire  the  din !  what  horrible  alarms, 
Of  shrieks  and  shouts,  and  ever-clanging  arms ! 
Keen  sabres  glare,  deep-throated  cannons  roar, 
And  whizzing  balls,  in  leaden  volleys  pour; 
Whilst  clouds  of  dust  amid  the  blue  immense, 
Hang  o'er  the  scene,  in  ominous  suspense; 
Confusion  o'er  the  deathful  fray  presides, 
Insatiate  Death  the  storm  of  ruin  guides ; 
And  wild-eyed  Horror  screaming  o'er  the  fight, 
Invokes  the  curtains  of  chaotic  night." 

It  is  followed  by  an  ode  to  the  Connecticut  River,  in  ten 
stanzas,  dated  May,  1808  ;  by  the  "  Reward  of  Literary  Merit," 
dated  1807 ;  eleven  enigmas,  of  the  same  date  ;  "  The  Contented 
Ploughman,"  a  song,  dated  in  June,  1808;  "  Drought,"  July, 
1807;  and  a  translation  of  Horace,  22d  Carmen,  Book  I,  rather 
gracefully  and  faithfully  done.  All  these  are  in  quatrains. 

In  his  maturer  years  Mr.  Bryant  was  naturally  ashamed  of 
his  early  political  poems,  both  as  poems  and  as  expressions  of 
opinion.  I  once  asked  him  if  he  had  a  copy  of  the  "  Embargo." 
"  No,"  he  answered  testily  ;  "  why  should  I  keep  such  stuff  as 
that?"  More  lately,  when  I  told  him  that  I  had  succeeded  in 
borrowing  a  copy  from  a  friend,  his  reply  was :  "  Well,  you 
have  taken  a  great  deal  of  trouble  for  a  very  foolish  thing." 

The  pious  grandfather,  Deacon  Snell,  set  the  boy  at  much 
better  work  than  writing  satires  on  men  and  things  that  he 
knew  nothing  about,  when  he  paid  him  for  paraphrasing  the 
Hebrew  Scriptures.  What  he  made  of  the  first  chapter  of 


76  THE  BOY  POET  AND  POLITICIAN. 

the  story  of  Job  we  have  seen  in  the  note  on  a  previous  page.* 
A  version  of  that  noble  ejaculation,  the  Hundred  and  Fourth 
Psalm,  is  also  spoken  of  there,  but  it  has  not  been  recovered. 
In  place  of  it,  however,  I  find  a  version  of  David's  lament  over 
Saul  and  Jonathan,f  written  about  the  same  time,  or  shortly 
afterward,  which,  as  it  is  the  first  specimen  of  the  poet's  blank 
verse — a  measure  that  he  subsequently  carried  to  such  per 
fection — I  shall  be  pardoned,  I  hope,  for  reproducing  it  in  a 
note. 


*  Page  22. 

f  II  Samuel,  i,  19. 

\  "  The  beautiful  of  Israel's  land  lie  slain 
On  the  high  places.     How  the  mighty  ones 
Are  fallen  !     Tell  it  not  in  Gath,  nor  sound 
The  tidings  in  the  streets  of  Ascalon, 
Lest  there  the  daughters  of  the  Philistines 
Rejoice,  lest  there  the  heathen  maidens  sing 
The  song  of  triumph.     Oh  ye  mountain  slopes — 
Ye  Heights  of  Gilboa,  let  there  be  no  rain 
Nor  dew  upon  you  ;  let  no  offerings  smoke 
Upon  your  fields,  for  there  the  strong  man's  shield, 
The  shield  of  Saul,  was  vilely  cast  away, 
As  though  he  ne'er  had  been  anointed  king. 
From  bloody  fray,  from  conflict  to  the  death, 
With  men  of  might  the  bow  of  Jonathan 
Turned  never  back,  nor  did  the  sword  of  Saul 
Return  without  the  spoils  of  victory. 
Joined  in  their  loves  and  pleasant  in  their  lives 
Were  Saul  and  Jonathan  ;  nor  in  their  deaths 
Divided  ;  swifter  were  they  in  pursuit 
Than  eagles,  and  of  more  than  lion  strength. 
Weep,  Israel's  daughters !  over  Saul,  who  robed 
Your  limbs  in  scarlet,  adding  ornaments 
That  ye  delight  in,  ornaments  of  gold. 
How  are  the  mighty  fallen  in  the  heat 
Of  battle  !     Oh,  my  brother  Jonathan, 
Slain  on  the  heights  !     My  heart  is  wrung  for  thee  ; 
My  brother,  very  pleasant  hast  thou  been 
To  me  ;  thy  love  for  me  was  wonderful, 
Passing  the  love  of  women.     How  are  fallen 
The  mighty,  and  their  weapons  lie  in  dust ! " 


A    CLASSICAL    TRANSLATION. 


77 


The  poetry  of  the  Old  Testament  is  of  such  incomparable 
grandeur  and  beauty  that  the  imagination  of  a  child  can  not 
be  more  powerfully  expanded  than  by  rendering  it  into  his 
own  words.  But  the  father,  influenced  by  the  literary  spirit 
of  his  age,  was  more  inclined  to  the  classic  models,  and,  when 
the  boy,  in  November,  1808,  went  to  Brookfield  to  begin  his 
preparations  for  college,  it  was  earnestly  enjoined  upon  him 
to  convert  into  English  verse  the  passages  of  the  ^Eneid  and 
other  books  that  he  might  take  up.  The  father's  letter  to 
this  effect  we  have  not,  but  here  is  the  boy's  reply : 

"BROOKFIELD,  April  4,  1809. 

u  RESPECTED  FATHER  :  You  will  doubtless  find  in  the  enclosed 
lines  much  that  needs  emendation  and  much  that  characterizes  the 
crude  efforts  of  puerility.  They  have  received  some  correction  from 
my  hands,  but  you  are  sensible  that  the  partiality  of  an  author  for  his 
own  compositions,  and  an  immature  judgment,  may  have  prevented 
me  from  perceiving  the  most  of  its  defects,  however  prominent.  I 
will  endeavor,  to  the  utmost  of  my  ability,  to  follow  the  excellent 
instructions  which  you  gave  me  in  your  last.  I  have  now  proceeded 
in  my  studies  as  far  as  the  Seventh  Book  of  the  yEneid. 

"  The  Federal  party  here  is  now  strengthened  by  the  addition  of 
a  considerable  number.  The  family  are  still  favored  with  .their  usual 
degree  of  health.  But  I  must  conclude. 

"  Your  dutiful  son, 

"W.  C.  B." 

The  poems  enclosed  were  two  (not  one,  as  it  is  said  in  the 
Autobiography),  and  they  hardly  seem  to  deserve  the  severity 
of  criticism  applied  to  them  by  both  father  and  son.  They 
are  too  long  for  admission  here,  but  an  extract  from  one  of 
them  will  not,  perhaps,  be  out  of  place  as  a  note.*  It  is  the 
description  of  a  storm,  Book  I,  1.  19. 

*  4<  Eolus  spake,  and  with  a  godlike  might 
Impelled  his  spear  against  the  mountain's  height. 
Straight  the  freed  winds  forsake  their  rocky  cell, 
And  o'er  the  earth  in  furious  whirlwinds  swell. 


;8  THE  BOY  POET  AND  POLITICIAN. 

The  second  version,  the  account  of  Polyphemus,  JEneid, 
Book  III,  line  6i8th,  was  more  spirited,  but  is  not  of  a  nature 
to  be  quoted. 

How  thoroughly  the  lad  entered  into  his  classical  studies 
appears  from  a  poetical  epistle  addressed  to  his  elder  brother 
Austin,  a  little  while  after  the  foregoing  letter  was  sent  to  his 


The  Southwest  laden  with  its  tempests  dire. 
Fierce  Eurus  and  the  raging  South  conspire ; 
Disclose  the  ocean's  depths  with  dreadful  roar, 
And  roll  vast  surges  thundering  to  the  shore. 
The  cordage  breaks,  the  seamen  raise  their  cries, 
Clouds  veil  the  smiling  day,  and  cheerful  skies  ; 
Blue  lightnings  glare,  redoubled  thunder  rolls, 
And  frowning  darkness  shrouds  the  dreary  poles  ! 
While  instant  ruin  threatening  every  eye, 
Hangs  on  the  waves,  or  lowers  from  the  sky  !„ 
Relaxed  with  shuddering  fear,  yEneas  stands  ; 
And  groaning,  raises  to  the  heavens  his  hands. 
4  Thrice  happy  ye  who  died  in  war,'  he  cries. 
4  In  stately  Troy,  before  your  parents'  eyes  ; 
Why  fell  I  not,  Tydides,  by  thine  hand, 
On  Trojan  plains,  thou  bravest  of  thy  band? 
Then  might  I  lie  by  mighty  Hector's  side, 
Or  where  Sarpedon,  great  in  battle,  died  ; 
Where,  with  impetuous  torrent,  Simois  rolls, 
The  arms  and  bodies  of  heroic  souls.' 

44  A  mighty  wave  descending  from  on  high, 
Death  on  its  brow — before  the  hero's  eye, 
Fell  on  the  ships  which  bore  the  Lycian  crew, 
And  headlong  from  his  seat  the  pilot  threw. 
Thrice  the  swift  vortex  whirled  the  vessel  round, 
And  straight  ingulphed  it  in  the  deep  profound  ! 
Then  o'er  the  waves,  in  thick  confusion  spread, 
Rose  arms  and  planks  and  bodies  of  the  dead. 

41  Now  Ilioneus'  sturdy  barque  gave  way, 
Achates'  vessel  owned  the  tempest's  sway  ; 
Then  round  young  Abas'  ship  its  terrors  roar, 
And  that  whose  bosom  old  Alethes  bore. 
Their  joints  were  wrenched,  and  all,  with  gaping  sides, 
Receive,  in  drenching  streams,  the  hostile  tides." 


THE    YOUNG  BARD.  ~Q 

father.     The  original  contained  some  one  hundred  and  eighty 
lines,  but  only  a  few  of  these  are  preserved  : 

"  Once  more  the  Bard,  with  eager  eye,  reviews 
The  flowery  paths  of  fancy,  and  the  Muse 
Once  more  essays  to  trill  forgotten  strains, 
The  loved  amusement  of  his  native  plains. 
Late  you  beheld  me  treading  labor's  round, 
To  guide  slow  oxen  o'er  the  furrowed  ground  ;  * 
The  sturdy  hoe  or  slender  rake  to  ply, 
'Midst  dust  and  sweat,  beneath  a  summer  sky. 
But  now  I  pore  o'er  Virgil's  glowing  lines, 
Where,  famed  in  war,  the  great  ^Eneas  shines ; 
Where  novel  scenes  around  me  seem  to  stand, 
Lo  !  grim  Alecto  whirls  the  flaming  brand. 
Dire  jarring  tumult,  death  and  battle  rage, 
Fierce  armies  close,  and  daring  chiefs  engage ; 
Mars  thunders  furious  from  his  flying  car, 
And  hoarse-toned  clarions  stir  the  raging  war. 
Nor  with  less  splendor  does  his  master-hand 
Paint  the  blue  skies,  the  ocean,  and  the  land  ; 
Majestic  mountains  rear  their  awful  head, 
Fair  plains  extend,  and  bloomy  vales  are  spread. 
The  rugged  cliff  in  threatening  grandeur  towers, 
And  joy  sports  smiling  in  Arcadian  bowers  ; 
In  silent  calm  the  expanded  ocean  sleeps, 
Or  boisterous  whirlwinds  toss  the  rising  deeps ; 
Triumphant  vessels  o'er  his  rolling  tide, 
With  painted  prows  and  gaudy  streamers,  glide." 

Meanwhile,  the  "  Bard "  was  not  so  entirely  absorbed  in 
the  fortunes  of  ^Eneas  and  his  companions  as  to  forget  those 
of  his  own  country.  His  indignant  remonstrances  had  not 
succeeded  in  getting  President  Jefferson  to  resign  his  place 
and  resume  his  scientific  studies ;  but  the  dire  embargo  was  in 

*  This  recalls  the  words  of  Burns's  first  dedication  :  "  The  poetic  genius  of  my 
country  found  me — at  the  plough." 


8o  THE  BOY  POET  AND  POLITICIAN. 

due  course  of  time  repealed.  Nevertheless,  the  clouds  of  dan 
ger  that  gathered  about  the  nation  were  not  thereby  dissi 
pated.  Napoleon  Bonaparte  had  come  to  supply  the  place  of 
Jefferson  as  the  ogre  of  New  England  apprehensions.  All 
Europe,  excepting  England,  now  lay  at  the  feet  of  that  san 
guinary  and  selfish  despot ;  Italy  was  a  dependency  of  France ; 
Germany  was  overrun;  and  Spain  and  Portugal  were  pos 
sessed  by  his  victorious  troops.  In  the  despondency  which 
these  rapid  successes  impressed  upon  the  general  mind,  it 
seemed  as  if  the  career  of  the  conqueror  would  prove  to  be 
irresistible,  and  that,  having  subdued  the  Old  World,  his  som 
bre  helm  might  project  its  shadows  over  the  New.  As  we 
now  see  it,  after  the  event,  knowing  how  his  difficulties  multi 
plied  with  his  triumphs,  there  was  no  real  danger  of  such  a 
catastrophe.  But  the  imaginations  of  his  contemporaries 
were  inflamed,  and  our  youthful  poet  shared  in  the  general 
fears.  He  was  not,  however,  mastered  by  them  ;  and  during 
a  school  vacation,  in  January,  1810,  like  David  of  old,  he 
flung  his  stone  of  defiance  at  the  Goliath.  Summoning  to 
his  assistance  a  mysterious  and  inexplicable  personage,  who 
had  long  haunted  the  American  Parnassus,  as  "  the  Genius 
of  Columbia,"  he  dared  "  the  son  of  glory  "  to  an  encounter 
with  the  "  sons  of  freedom,"  and  he  put  the  despot  to  a 
speedy  and  ignominious  flight  before  their  invincible  valor.* 

I  have  cited  these  juvenile  efforts  purely  as  biographic 
material,  and  not  as  evidence  of  any  peculiar  poetic  powers. 

*  This  outbreak  of  patriotic  valor  may  amuse  the  reader,  and  I  append  it : 
THE  GENIUS  OF  COLUMBIA. 

Far  in  the  regions  of  the  west, 

On  throne  of  adamant  upraised, 
Bright  on  whose  polished  sides  impressed, 

The  Sun's  meridian  splendors  blazed, 

Columbia's  Genius  sat  and  eyed 

The  eastern  despot's  dire  career  ; 
And  thus  with  independent  pride, 

She  spoke  and  bade  the  nations  hear. 


VALUE  OF   THESE  POEMS.  8 1 

They  show  better  than  almost  any  other  records  the  influ 
ences  under  which  the  lad  was  educated ;  but  they  do  not  as 
poetry  bear  witness  to  the  real  bent  of  his  genius,  or  even 
foreshadow  the  characteristics  of  his  later  writings — that  mi- 
nute  and  loving  observation  of  nature  which  became  with  him 
almost  a  religion — or  that  profound  meditative  interpretation 
of  the  great  movements  of  the  universe  which  amounted  to  a 

"  Go,  favored  son  of  glory,  go  ! 

Thy  dark  aspiring  aims  pursue  ! 
The  blast  of  domination  blow, 

Earth's  wide  extended  regions  through ! 
44  Though  Austria,  twice  subjected,  own 

The  thunders  of  thy  conquering  hand, 
And  Tyranny  erect  his  throne, 

In  hapless  Sweden's  fallen  land  ! 
44  Yet  know,  a  nation  lives,  whose  soul 

Regards  thee  with  disdainful  eye  ; 
Undaunted  scorns  thy  proud  control, 

And  dares  thy  swarming  hordes  defy  ; 
44  Unshaken  as  their  native  rocks, 

Its  hardy  sons  heroic  rise  ; 
Prepared  to  meet  thy  fiercest  shocks, 

Protected  by  the  favoring  skies. 
44  Their  fertile  plains  and  woody  hills, 

Are  fanned  by  Freedom's  purest  gales  ! 
And  her  celestial  presence  fills 

The  deepening  glens  and  spacious  vales." 
She  speaks  ;  through  all  her  listening  bands 

A  loud  applauding  murmur  flies  ; 
Fresh  valor  nerves  their  willing  hands, 

And  lights  with  joy  their  glowing  eyes  ! 
Then  should  Napoleon's  haughty  pride 

Wake  on  our  shores  the  fierce  affray  ; 
Grim  Terror  lowering  at  his  side, 

Attendant  on  his  furious  way  ! 
With  quick  repulse,  his  baffled  band 

Would  seek  the  friendly  shore  in  vain, 
Bright  Justice  lift  her  red  right  hand, 

And  crush  them  on  the  fatal  plain. 

W.  C.  B. 

CUMMINGTON,  January  8,  1810. 
VOL.  I — 7 


82  THE  BOY  POET  AND  POLITICIAN. 

kind  of  philosophy.  There  is  nowhere  in  them  any  of  the 
inspiration  or  local  coloring  of  the  beautiful  scenes  in  which 
he  lived.  They  do  not  breathe  the  odor  of  the  soil,  nor  vi 
brate  with  the  pulses  of  the  mountain  winds ;  even  the  day 
dreams  and  musings  of  childhood  are  not  there  ;  only  facti 
tious  passions,  excited  by  his  political  surroundings,  and 
wholly  unsuited  to  his  tender  years.  In  manner,  too,  they 
were  imitative.  "  Such  rhymes  of  boys,"  said  Mr.  G.  W.  Curtis 
truly,  "  are  but  songs  of  the  mocking-bird  "  ;  *  but  it  could  not 
easily  have  been  otherwise.  At  the  time  the  lad  began  to 
write,  the  mode  of  versification,  appropriated  by  Dryden  and 
Pope  from  Gallic  originals,  was  universally  and  almost  des 
potically  in  the  ascendant.  "  The  little  Queen  Anne's  Man  " 
had  not  been,  as  Mr.  Stoddard  asserts,  "  long  since  dethroned 
in  England  ;  "  f  he  was  still  reigning  in  full  power.  The  ten- 
syllabled  couplet,  with  its  balanced  antitheses  and  monoto 
nous  jingle,  was  the  inevitable  vehicle  of  all  poetic  expres 
sion  ;  and  the  matter  to  be  expressed  was  prescribed  almost 
as  imperatively  as  the  manner  of  the  expression.^:  It  is  true 
that  Cowper,  Thompson,  Gray,  Burns,  and  the  Percy  bal 
lads,  had  introduced  more  simple  and  natural  methods  of 
writing  in  metre  ;  but  these  were  not  yet  acknowledged  by 
the  teachers  or  widely  admired  by  the  public.  ]  As  to  our 
American  versifiers,  they  were  the  bond-slaves  of  the  "sys 
tem,"  as  Mrs.  Browning  calls  it,  and  rejoiced  in  their  bond 
age,  or  rather  were  wholly  unconscious  of  it.  Every  youth 
who  felt  a  desire  to  rhyme  was  condemned  to  follow  strictly 
in  their  footsteps.  It  would  have  been  hardly  less  than  a 
miracle  for  a  boy  of  the  backwoods,  whatever  his  native  in 
stincts,  to  break  away  from  the  traditionary  fetters  and  set 
up  a  style  of  his  own.  In  the  experienced  literary  circles  of 

*  "  Commemorative  Address,"  Dec.  30, 1878,  p.  16.    Scribner  &  Sons,  New  York, 
f  R.  H.  Stoddard.     "  Memorial  Pamphlet,"  p.  38.     New  York,  1879. 
\  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that,  once  emancipated  from  this  measure,  Mr.  Bryant 
never  recurred  to  it  for  any  purpose  whatever. 

H  See  Wordsworth's  Prefaces — "  Lyrical  Ballads." 


POE TR  Y  AL  WA  YS  MA  TURE.  33 

the  mother  country,  where  thought  was  certainly  free  to 
move  in  any  direction,  Wordsworth  and  his  colleagues  of 
the  Lakes  were  nearly  forty  years  in  working  out  that  return 
to  the  nobler  old  English  models  which  is  now  deemed  to 
have  been  a  sort  of  regeneration  of  English  verse. 

It  is,  moreover,  to  be  remembered  that  genuine  origi 
nal  poetry  is  seldom,  if  ever,  the  product  of  immature  in 
tellect.  As  Davenant  quaintly  says,  in  his  preface  to  Gon- 
debart,*  "  these  engenderings  of  unripe  age  become  abortive 
or  deformed."  They  are  not  the  digestions  of  the  author's 
own  mind,  but  the  suggestions  of  his  books.  Memory  is,  in 
truth,  for  such  the  mother  of  the  Muses.  When  a  youth  of 
quick  sensibilities  reads  a  fine  passage  he  admires  it  hugely, 
and  because  he  admires  it  he  fancies  that  he  can  do  something 
like  it ;  but  what  he  does  is  a  reproduction,  and  not  a  creation. 
For  this  reason  it  is  that  so  few  juvenile  poems  ever  possess 
any  enduring  vitality.  One  looks  in  vain  through  the  history 
of  the  world's  literature  for  an  exception.  Even  those  drag 
nets,  the  Anthologies,  which  carry  along  a  great  deal  of  rub 
bish  with  a  few  pearls,  cease  very  soon  to  contain  them.  If 
they  survive  at  all,  they  survive,  not  on  account  of  their  in 
trinsic  merit,  but  as  exciting  surprise  that  writers  so  young 
should,  on  the  whole,  have  done  so  well,  or  because  the  au 
thors  of  them  have  subsequently  attained  notoriety  or  fame. 
Certainly,  Tasso's  Lines  to  his  Mother,  written  when  he  was 
nine  years  old,  Cowley's  Tale  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe,  f  writ 
ten  when  he  was  ten,  and  Pope's  "  Ode  to  Solitude,"  written  in 
his  twelfth  year,  are  extremely  interesting  poems ,  but  they  are 
interesting  because  they  were  Tasso's,  Cowley's,  and  Pope's. 
If  these  names  had  never  been  heard  of  again,  the  verses  would 
have  been  forgotten.  A  certain  lyrical  faculty  is  possible  to 
the  very  young — as  we  see  in  the  case  of  the  Davidson  and 
Goodall  children,  not  to  mention  others — but  the  true  power 

*  Cited  by  Southey.     "  Poetical  Works,"  vol.  i.     Preface  to  Minor  Poems, 
t  Mr.  Bryant  himself  thought  Cowley's  early  pieces  "the   finest  ever  written  at 
his  age  in  the  English  language."     "  X.  A.  Review,"  Xo.  256,  p.  369. 


84  THE  BOY  POET  AND  POLITICIAN. 

of  poetry  is,  as  Matthew  Arnold  somewhere  says,  the  power 
to  awaken  in  us  a  clear,  full,  fresh,  intimate  sense  of  the  essen 
tial  harmony  of  the  objects  about  us,  so  bewildering  and  cha 
otic  in  their  first  impressions  ;  and  this  power  comes  only  out 
of  the  deeper  experiences  of  life. 

Nevertheless,  these  youthful  verses  possess,  apart  from  the 
question  of  their  poetic  merit,  a  great  deal  of  literary  interest. 
Mr.  Bryant  is  one  of  the  few  instances  in  which  precocity 
was  followed  by  a  ripe  maturity ;  and  it  is  always  pleasing 
to  consider  the  first  efforts  of  men  of  genius  who  have  after 
ward  made  a  name — to  compare  their  rude,  clumsy  begin 
nings  with  the  results  of  more  cultured  skill ;  and  to  remark 
the  native  as  well  as  the  traditional  crudities  and  falsenesses 
out  of  which  they  have  been  compelled  to  work  their  way. 
From  his  tenth  to  his  sixteenth  year,  this  boy,  shut  up  among 
the  hills,  away  from  the  social  influences  that  kindle  ambition, 
had  composed  some  thirty  or  forty  different  pieces  of  verse 
that  are  still  extant,  besides  many  others  that  are  lost — mak 
ing  in  all  some  thousands  of  lines — satires,  elegies,  odes,  songs, 
and  translations ;  work  which  certainly  shows  a  decided  lit 
erary  faculty.  All  of  it  bears  marks  of  negative  good  augury 
in  the  absence  of  all  morbidness  or  affectation,  proving  it  no 
mere  febrile  or  hot-house  growth,  as  all  of  it  bears  marks  of 
positive  good  augury  in  a  certain  clearness,  vigor,  and  dex 
terity  of  execution.  He  always  seems  to  know  what  he  would 
be  at,  and  how  to  do  it ;  and,  though  his  matter  and  manner 
were  both  furnished  him  from  without,  it  is  easy  to  see,  in  his 
struggles  to  express  himself  in  rhyme,  the  workings  of  that 
spirit  which  induced  the  little  child  to  deviate  in  his  prayers 
from  those  he  heard  around  him,  and  to  ask,  on  his  own  ac 
count,  that  he  might  "  some  time  write  verses  that  should  en 
dure."  In  considering  the  whole  case,  I  do  not  recall  from  the 
history  of  literature  any  more  remarkable  example  of  early, 
continuous,  and  prolonged  intellectual  exertion  than  is  to  be 
found  in  the  career  of  our  poet. 


CHAPTER  FIFTH. 

THE  COLLEGE   STUDENT. 
A.  D.  iSlO,  l8ll. 

IT  was  fortunate  for  the  subject  of  this  memoir  that,  when 
his  father  began  to  educate  him,  the  love  of  the  classics — an 
inheritance  from  England,  widely  cherished  during  our  colo 
nial  period — was  by  no  means  extinct.  Every  person  who 
expected  to  figure  as  a  man  of  polite  learning,  or  enter  upon 
any  of  the  liberal  professions,  knew  that  a  knowledge  of  Greek 
and  Latin  literature  was  an  indispensable  preliminary.  Every 
New  England  family,  that  could  in  any  way  compass  the  ex 
pense,  was  possessed  of  the  ambition  to  send  at  least  one  of  its 
members  to  college.  In  the  Bryant  family,  the  lot  fell  upon 
the  second  son — the  eldest,  Austin,  having  been  provided  for 
by  his  grandfather  as  a  farmer,  and  the  others  being  yet  too 
young  to  be  taken  into  account.  Cullen,  therefore,  after  having 
been  instructed  at  home  in  the  rudiments  of  Latin  and  French, 
was  transferred,  as  the  autobiography  relates,  to  the  care  of 
his  uncle  at  Brookfield,  Parson  Thomas  Snell,  who  joined  to 
his  pastoral  labors  the  preparation  of  a  few  lads  for  the  higher 
seminaries.  Cullen  remained  at  Brookfield  seven  months,  from 
November  8,  1808,  to  July  9,  1809,  and  was  then  removed 
(August  28th)  to  the  house  of  the  Rev.  Moses  Hallock,  of 
Plainfield,  who  was  somewhat  noted,  in  his  restricted  sphere, 
as  a  successful  teacher  of  youth.  There  he  continued  more 
than  a  year,  when  he  was  taken  by  his  father  to  Williamstown 
to  be  examined  for  the  Sophomore  class,  which  he  entered 
October  8,  1810. 


86  THE  COLLEGE  STUDENT. 

Williamstown,  though  situated  in  one  of  the  noblest 
mountain  precincts  of  Massachusetts,  was,  at  that  time,  a 
small  straggling  village  of  a  few  houses,  with  muddy  and 
undrained  streets,  and  without  trees,  presenting  little  of  that 
loveliness  of  aspect  which  noAV  renders  it  one  of  the  most 
charming  and  picturesque  of  summer  retreats.  The  college, 
scarcely  older  than  Mr.  Bryant  himself,  was  no  more  than  a 
grammar  school,  considering  the  range  of  its  studies  and  the 
small  number  of  its  teachers.  Dr.  Bryant  chose  it  for  his  son, 
partly  because  of  its  proximity  to  his  place  of  residence,  and 
partly  because  of  the  narrowness  of  his  means.  His  tastes 
and  associations  would  have  inclined  him  to  Cambridge, 
which  enjoyed  a  wider  repute,  and  was  now  under  religious 
influences  with  which  he  sympathized,  if  he  could  have  af 
forded  to  incur  the  additional  expenses. 

The  brief  references  to  his  college  career  contained  in  Mr. 
Bryant's  autobiography  are  supplemented  by  a  few  particulars 
in  a  letter  to  the  Rev.  Calvin  Durfee,  the  historian  of  the  col 
lege,  written  at  Roslyn,  Long  Island,  July  19,  1859. 

u  I  entered  Williams  College,"  he  says,  "  in  the  autumn  of  the  year 
1810,  almost  half  a  century  since — having  prepared  myself  in  such  a 
manner  that  I  was  admitted  into  the  Sophomore  class.  At  that  time 
Dr.  Fitch  was  president  of  the  college,  and  instructor  of  the  Senior 
class.  I  have  a  vivid  recollection  of  his  personal  appearance — a 
square-built  man,  of  a  dark  complexion,  and  black,  arched  eyebrows. 
To  me  his  manner  was  kind  and  courteous,  and  I  remember  it  with 
pleasure.  He  often  preached  to  us  on  Sundays,  but  his  style  of  ser 
monizing  was  not  such  as  to  compel  the  attention.  We  listened  with 
more  interest  to  Professor  Chester  Dewey,  then  in  his  early  manhood, 
the  teacher  of  the  Junior  class,  who  was  the  most  popular  of  those 
who  were  called  the  Faculty  of  the  college.  Two  young  men,  recent 
graduates  of  the  college,  acted  as  tutors,  superintended  the  recitations 
of  the  two  lower  classes,  and  made  their  periodical  visits  to  the  col 
lege  rooms,  to  see  that  everything  was  in  order.  These  four  were  at 
that  time  the  only  instructors  in  Williams  College. 

"  Before  my  admission,  it  had  been  the  practice  for  the  members 


WILLIAMS   COLLEGE.  87 

of  the  Sophomore  class,  in  the  first  term  of  their  year,  to  seize  upon 
the  persons  of  some  of  the  Freshmen,  bring  them  before  an  assembly 
of  the  Sophomores,  and  compel  them  to  go  through  a  series  of  bur 
lesque  ceremonies,  and  receive  certain  mock  injunctions  with  regard 
to  their  future  behavior.  This  was  called  gamutizing  the  Freshmen. 
It  was  a  brutal  and  rather  riotous  proceeding,  which  I  can,  at  this 
time,  hardly  suppose  that  those  who  had  the  government  of  the  col 
lege  could  have  tolerated ;  yet  the  tradition  ran  that,  if  it  was  not 
connived  at,  no  pains  were  taken  to  suppress  it.  There  were  strong 
manifestations  of  a  disposition  to  enforce  the  custom  after  I  became 
a  member  of  the  Sophomore  class,  but  the  Freshmen  showed  so  reso 
lute  a  determination  to  resist  it  that  the  design  was  dropped ;  and 
this,  if  I  am  rightly  informed,  was  the  last  of  the  practice. 

"  The  college  buildings  consisted  of  two  large  plain  brick  struct 
ures,  called  the  East  and  the  West  College,  and  the  college  grounds,  an 
open  green,  were  between  the  two  and  surrounding  them  both.  From 
one  college  to  the  other  you  passed  by  a  straight  avenue  of  Lombardy 
poplars,  which  formed  the  sole  embellishment  of  the  grounds.  There 
was  a  smaller  building  or  two  of  wood,  forming  the  only  dependen 
cies  of  the  main  edifices,  and  every  two  or  three  years  the  students 
made  a  bonfire  of  one  of  these.  I  remember  being  startled  one  night 
by  the  alarm  of  fire,  and,  going  out,  found  one  of  these  buildings  in  a 
blaze  and  the  students  dancing  and  shouting  round  it. 

"  Concerning  my  fellow-students,  I  have  little  of  importance  to 
communicate.  My  stay  in  college  was  hardly  long  enough  to  form 
those  close  and  life-long  intimacies  of  which  college  life  is  generally 
the  parent.  Orton  and  Jenkins — I  am  not  sure  of  their  Christian 
names,  and  have  not  the  catalogue  of  graduates  at  hand — were  among 
our  best  scholars,  and  Northrop  and  C.  F.  Sedgwick  among  our  best 
elocutionists.  When  either  of  these  two  spoke,  every  ear  was  open. 
I  recollect,  too,  the  eloquent  Lamed  and  the  amiable  Morris. 

"  The  library  of  the  college  was  then  small,  but  was  pretty  well 
supplied  with  the  classics.  The  library  of  the  two  literary  societies 
into  which  the  students  were  divided  was  a  little  collection,  scarcely, 
I  think,  exceeding  a  thousand  in  number.  I  availed  myself  of  it  to 
read  several  books  which  I  had  not  seen  elsewhere. 

"  Where  the  number  of  teachers  was  so  small,  it  could  hardly  be 
expected  that  the  course  of  studies  should  be  very  extensive  or  com- 


88  THE  COLLEGE  STUDENT. 

plete.  The  standard  of  scholarship  in  Williams  College  at  that  time 
was  so  far  below  what  it  now  is,  that  I  think  many  graduates  of  those 
days  would  be  no  more  than  prepared  for  admission  as  Freshmen 
now.  There  were  some,  however,  who  found  too  much  exacted  from 
their  diligence,  and  left  my  class  on  that  account.  I  heard  that  one 
or  two  of  them  had  been  afterward  admitted  to  Union  College. 
There  were  others  who  were  not  satisfied  with  the  degree  of  scholar 
ship  attained  at  Williams  College,  and  desired  to  belong  to  some  in 
stitution  where  the  sphere  of  instruction  was  more  extended.  One  of 
these  was  my  room-mate,  John  Avery,  of  Conway,  in  Massachusetts, 
a  most  worthy  man,  and  a  good  scholar,  who  afterward  became  a 
minister  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  settled  in  Maryland.  At  the 
end  of  his  Sophomore  year  he  obtained  a  dismission,  and  was  matric 
ulated  at  Yale  College,  New  Haven.  I  also,  perhaps  influenced  some 
what  by  his  example,  sought  and  obtained,  near  the  end  of  my  Soph 
omore  year,  an  honorable  dismission  from  Williams  College.  With 
the  same  intention,  I  passed  some  time  afterward  in  preparing  my 
self  for  admission  at  Yale,  but  the  pecuniary  circumstances  of  my 
father  prevented  me  from  carrying  my  design  into  effect." 

Mr.  Charles  F.  Sedgwick,  one  of  the  class-mates  men 
tioned,  still  survives,  in  the  eighty-fourth  year  of  his  age,  an 
honored  citizen  of  Sharon,  Connecticut;  and  in  reply  to  a 
letter  addressed  to  him  by  the  biographer,  asking  his  rem 
iniscences  of  the  youthful  poet,  was  kind  enough  to  return  the 
following  answer : 

"SHARON,  Conn.,  Sept.  22,  1879. 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  your  favor  of  the  8th  inst.,  and  will  give  such 
a  reply  as  I  am  able  to  your  inquiries  regarding  the  college  life  of 
your  honored  father-in-law.  His  stay  in  college  was  so  short  that  he 
had  no  time  to  develop  those  minute  characteristics  about  which  you 
inquire,  and  which  a  more  extended  term  would  have  exhibited,  but 
the  general  tenor  of  his  college  life  is  well  preserved  in  my  memory. 

"  He  came  with  the  reputation  of  having  written  some  two  or  three 
minor  poems,  bearing  upon  the  political  questions  then  agitating  the 
public  mind,  and  which  dealt  out  very  pungent  ridicule  upon  the  Demo 
cratic  policy  of  those  days.  I  do  not  remember  that  I  heard  those 
poems  alluded  to  by  him,  or  in  his  presence,  during  his  stay  in  college. 


J/A\  SRDGWICK'S  REMEMKRAXCES.  89 

"  He  was  well  advanced  in  his  sixteenth  year,  tall  and  slender  in 
his  physical  structure,  and  having  a  prolific  growth  of  dark-brown 
hair.  I  do  not  remember  that  I  ever  knew  of  any  person  in  whom 
the  progress  of  years  made  so  great  a  change  in  personal  appearance 
as  in  him. 

"  During  his  stay  in  college  he  associated  with  the  more  orderly  / 
and  studious  scholars,  and  was  very  modest  and  unobtrusive,  though 
pleasantly  familiar  with  his  personal  friends.  His  scholarship  was  re 
spectable,  and  his  lessons  were  well  mastered.  In  the  performance 
of  the  task,  imposed  upon  each  student,  of  reading  a  composition  be 
fore  the  class  in  the  presence  of  the  tutor,  he  prepared  a  short  poem, 
which  received  the  commendation  of  the  tutor,  the  Rev.  Orange 
Lyman,  afterward  Presbyterian  pastor  at  Vernon,  Oneida  County, 
N.  Y.  He  also  translated  one  of  the  odes  of  Anacreon,  which  he 
showed  to  a  few  friends.  He  gave  me  the  perusal  of  it,  but,  as  I  have 
not  the  book,  I  cannot  point  out  which  ode  it  was.  Except  these  two 
specimens,  I  remember  nothing  in  his  show  of  scholarship  or  in  the 
incidents  of  his  college  life  which  foretold  the  brilliancy  of  his  sub 
sequent  career.  After  Thanatopsis  had  made  him  famous,  a  tradition 
obtained  some  credit  that  it  was  conceived  and  written  in  some  ob 
scure  locality  among  the  mountains  of  Williamstown.  I  never  gave 
the  story  credit,  and  at  my  last  meeting  with  him  in  1876,  he  stated 
that  it  was  written  at  his  home  in  Cummington.* 

"  I  have  only  to  add  that  Mr.  Bryant  was  much  respected  by  all 
his  acquaintances  in  college,  mild  and  gentlemanly  in  his  intercourse 
with  his  fellow-students,  and  that  his  class-mates  regretted  his  leav 
ing  them  after  so  short  a  connection  with  the  college.  The  corpora 
tion  of  Williams  afterward  restored  his  name  to  the  college  catalogue 
by  conferring  upon  him  the  usual  college  degrees,  and  the  college  is 
proud  to  number  him  among  its  alumni. 

"  Very  respectfully  yours, 

"CHARLES  F.  SEDGWICK." 

The  poem  recited  before  the  class  was  probably  the  "  Ver 
sion  of  a  Fragment  of  Simonides,"  which  has  since  been 

*  The  tradition  was  nevertheless  a  natural  one,  as  it  was  written  about  a  month 
after  his  last  visit  to  the  college  to  attend  the  Commencement  of  his  class,  from 
which  he  had  previously  taken  a  dismission. 


QO  THE  COLLEGE  STUDENT. 

included  in  the  collected  works  of  Mr.  Bryant.  There  is  an 
"  Indian  War  Song "  of  the  same  year,  in  which  he  pours 
forth  the  sanguinary  and  vengeful  feelings  of  a  supposed  In 
dian  chief,  with  all  the  energy  of  a  Greek  chorus,  and  which, 
though  not  distinguished  by  any  unusual  poetic  excellence, 
has  yet  a  certain  historical  interest  as  the  precursor  of  his 
several  poems  relating  to  the  aboriginal  element  of  our  poetic 
traditions.  In  this  line  of  thought  Freneau  had  preceded 
him,  but  Freneau  had  never  been  able  to  manage  the  materials 
with  the  same  mastery  of  their  more  noble  and  pathetic  asso 
ciations.* 

He  was  less  successful  in  another  attempt  to  declaim  before 
the  class,  in  which  he  had  selected  a  passage  from  "  Knicker 
bocker's  History  of  New  York" — a  work  then  recently  pub 
lished,  and  which  he  had  been  reading  with  great  admiration 
in  his  leisure  hours — but  the  humor  of  which  so  convulsed  him 
with  laughter  when  he  attempted  to  recite  it,  that  he  was  com 
pelled  to  resume  his  seat,  under  the  frowns  of  the  tutor,  but 
amid  an  outburst  of  merriment  from  his  companions. 

The  John  Avery  spoken  of  in  the  autobiography  died  at 
an  early  age ;  but  a  letter  which  he  wrote,  while  he  was  the 
room-mate  of  Bryant,  to  Mr.  Solomon  Metcalf  Allen,  a  son  of 
Dr.  Thomas  Allen,  the  first  minister  at  Pittsfield,  gives  us  an 
other  glimpse  of  the  poet  in  those  early  days.f 


*  The  reader  will  derive  from  this,  the  first  of  the  eight  stanzas  of  which  the 
"  War  Song  "  is  composed,  a  pretty  good  conception  of  its  tone  and  manner  : 
"  Ghosts  of  my  \vounded  brethren  rest, 

Shades  of  the  warrior-dead  ! 
Nor  weave,  in  shadowy  garment  drest, 

The  death-dance  round  my  bed  ; 
For,  by  the  homes  in  which  we  dwelt, 
And  by  the  altar  where  we  knelt, 
And  by  our  dying  battle-songs, 
And  by  the  trophies  of  your  pride, 
And  by  the  wounds  of  which  ye  died, 

I  swear  to  avenge  your  wrongs." 
|  I  am  indebted  for  this  letter  to  Mrs.  Erastus  Hopkins,  of  Northampton,  Mass. 


ANACREON'S  SPRING.  QI 

"April  6,  x8ix. 

"  Bryant,  I  think  I  told  you,  means  to  leave  Williams  College.  He 
will  be  no  small  loss  to  the  class  and  to  college. 

"  Many,  especially  in  the  Senior  classes,  have  been  unwilling  to 
allow  him  the  credit  of  writing  the  *  Embargo,'  &c.,  but  I  am  confident, 
if  he  lives  and  has  the  smiles  of  Providence,  his  writings  will  give  suffi 
cient  evidence  of  his  capability  of  writing  them. 

"  The  following  is  a  specimen  of  his  college  poetry,  which  has  not 
had  the  advantage  of  his  father's  criticism. 

"  It  is  a  translation  of  Anacreon's  ode  to  the  *  Spring '  contained 
in  Grseca  Minora: 

"  Lo !  fragrant  Spring  returns  again 

With  all  the  Graces  in  her  train ! 

See,  charmed  to  life  the  budding  rose, 

Its  meek  and  purple  eyes  unclose; 

Mark  how  the  ocean's  dimpling  breast, 

Slow  swelling  sinks  in  tranquil  rest ! 

O'er  the  green  billow  heaving  wide, 

The  sportive  sea-fowls  gently  glide ; 

The  crane  returned  from  tropic  shores 

Bends  his  long  neck  and  proudly  soars. 

Clear  smiles  the  sun  with  constant  ray 

And  melts  the  shadowy  mists  away. 

The  works  of  busy  man  appear 

Fair  smiling  with  the  smiling  year; 

With  future  plenty  teems  the  earth 

And  gives  the  swelling  olive  birth. 

Haste,  quick  the  genial  goblet  bring 

Crowned  with  the  earliest  flowers  of  Spring, 

While  ruddy  fruits  depending  bloom, 

Where  late  the  blossom  breathed  perfume, 

Along  the  bending  bough  are  seen 

Or  peep  beneath  the  foliage  green.* 

*  In  a  private  paper  of  Mr.  Bryant,  dated  May,  1862,  is  another  version  of  the 
"  Spring,"  which  must  have  been,  I  think,  an  attempt  to  recall  that  of  his  college 
days,  which  Avery  preserved. 

"  See  what  a  shower  the  Graces  fling, 
Of  roses  round  the  path  of  Spring. 


92  THE  COLLEGE  STUDENT. 

"  This  will  not  suffer  by  comparison  with  Moore's  translation  of 
the  same. 

"JOHN  AVERY,  JR." 

Mr.  Bryant  speaks  of  his  residence  at  Williamstown  as 
having  been  on  the  whole  agreeable  to  him,  but  a  poem  which 
he  delivered  before  one  of  the  literary  societies  of  the  college 
conveys  a  somewhat  different  impression.  It  is  a  pretty  se 
vere  satire  upon  the  town,  the  college,  and  its  authorities.  He 
does  not  forget  to  celebrate  the  natural  beauty  of  the  place : 

"  Hemmed  in  with  hills,  whose  heads  aspire 
Abrupt  and  rude,  and  hung  with  woods," 

but  he  deprecates  the  climate,  which  infects  it  at  one  sea 
son  with  "  a  lengthened  blaze  of  drought,"  and,  at  another, 
drenches  it  with  "the  tempest's  copious  floods": 

"  A  frozen  desert  now  it  lies, 

And  now  a  sea  of  mud," 

from  which  mud,  he  continues,  the  most  deleterious  exhala 
tions  arise : 

"  And  hover  o'er  the  unconscious  vale, 
And  sleep  upon  the  mountain  side." 
And  then  he  asks : 

"  Why  should  I  sing  those  reverend  domes, 

Where  Science  rests  in  grave  repose  ? 
Ah  me !  their  terrors  and  their  glooms 
Only  the  wretched  inmate  knows. 

See  how  the  billow  on  the  breast 
Of  ocean  sinks  to  glassy  rest. 
And  here  the  wild  duck  swims,  and  there 
The  crane  goes  journeying  through  the  air. 
The  great  sun  pours  a  constant  ray, 
The  shadowy  clouds  are  chased  away, 
And  all  that  toiling  man  has  done 
Looks  bright  beneath  the  glorious  sun, 
Young  berries  stud  the  olive  bough, 
The  wine-cup  wears  a  garland  now, 
The  fruit-buds  into  blossoms  start 
And  push  the  leafy  shoots  apart." 


THE  RETURN  HOME.  93 

Where  through  the  horror-breathing  hall 
The  pale-faced,  moping  students  crawl 

Like  spectral  monuments  of  woe  ; 
Or,  drooping,  seek  the  unwholesome  cell, 
Where  shade  and  dust  and  cobwebs  dwell, 

Dark,  dirty,  dank,  and  low."* 

The  spirit  of  invective,  which  dictated  the  "  Embargo,"  was 
not  entirely  dead  within  the  young  man  ;  but  in  this  case,  I  am 
inclined  to  believe,  his  objurgations  were  more  playful  than  seri 
ous.  Mr.  Bryant,  in  after  life,  always  regretted,  as  he  says  in 
the  autobiography,  that  he  was  not  allowed  to  pursue  his  stud 
ies  at  Williamstown  to  the  end  of  the  course.  He  remained 
there  only  seven  months,  leaving  in  May,  1811,  and,  although 
he  attended  the  Commencement  exercises,  September  3d  of 
•the  same  year,  it  was  simply  as  a  spectator.  His  scholastic 
life  closed  with  this  brief  term,  and  was  never  resumed. 

His  return  home,  though  a  source  of  disappointment  to 
himself,  was  an  occasion  of  joy  to  the  family.  On  the  verge 
of  manhood — handsome,  exuberant  in  spirits,  having  new  ex-, 
periences  to  relate,  and  new  compositions  of  his  own  to  re 
peat,  the  younger  brothers  and  sisters  hailed  his  reappearance 
among  them  with  delight.  It  was  the  signal  for  a  renewal 
of  their  obstreperous  games  and  their  joyful  wanderings  in 
the  woods.  Older  than  most  of  the  others,  Cullen  was  re 
garded  as  a  leader,  both  of  their  sports  and  their  studies ;  and 
his  geniality  and  sweetness  of  disposition  made  him  a  most 
acceptable  leader.  He  was  at  times  quick-tempered,  as  it  is 
called,  but  his  little  outbreaks  of  passion  soon  passed  away, 
and  were  succeeded  by  the  most  affectionate  demonstrations 
of  kindliness  and  sympathy.  His  sisters,  toward  whom  he 
was  always  extremely  gentle  and  courteous,  returned  his  love 
with  more  than  sisterly  devotion,  while  his  brothers  evidently 
regarded  him  as  in  some  sort  a  superior  being.  "  My  earliest 

*  This  poem,  which  has  several  stanzas,  Mr.  Arthur  Bryant  retained  in  his  mem 
ory,  from  having  heard  his  brother  repeat  it  after  returning  home. 


94  THE  COLLEGE  STUDENT. 

recollections  of  my  brother,"  said  Mr.  Arthur  Bryant,  at  a  lit 
erary  celebration  in  Chicago,  in  1864,  "are  connected  with  his 
vacations,  when  I  used  to  stare  at  him  with  astonishment  and 
admiration,  while  he  declaimed,  with  loud  voice  and  extrava 
gant  gesticulation,  sometimes  his  own  verses,  such  as  the  "  In 
dian  War  Song,"  and  the  translation  of  a  chorus  in  "  CEdipus 
Tyrannus,"  and  sometimes  those  of  other  poets. 

The  boys,  in  fact,  as  they  roamed  about  the  hills,  recited 
to  one  another.  First,  you  might  hear  Cullen  shouting  out 
Strophe  I  of  the  CEdipus,  as  he  had  rendered  it  in  English : 

"  Where  is  the  wretch  condemned  to  death 

From  Delphi's  rock  sublime  ? 
Who  bears  upon  his  hands  of  blood 

The  inexplicable  crime  ? 
Oh !  swifter  than  the  winged  pace 

Of  stormy-footed  steed, 
Fly,  murderer  !  fly  the  wrath  that  waits 

The  unutterable  deed ! 
For  lo  !  he  follows  on  thy  path 

Who  fell  before  thee  late, 
With  gleaming  arms  and  glowing  flame, 

And  fierce,  avenging  hate." 

Then  Arthur,  or  another,  would  take  up  Antistrophe  I : 

"  I  heard  the  God  of  prophecies 

From  high  Parnassus  speak, 
Where  lurks  the  guilty  fugitive 

Apollo  bids  us  seek  ? 
'Mong  rocks  and  caves  and  shadowy  woods, 

And  wild,  untrodden  ways, 
As  some  lone  ox  that  leaves  the  herd, 

The  trembling  outlaw  strays  ; 
Yet  vainly  from  impending  doom 

The  assassin  strives  to  haste, 
It  lives  and  keeps  eternal  watch 

Amid  the  pathless  waste." 
And  so  on  through  the  whole  chorus. 


7/75  BROTHERS'  REMINISCENCES. 


95 


"  I  used,"  Mr.  Arthur  Bryant  continues,  "  to  commit  his 
verses  to  memory,  and  attempt  to  imitate  his  elocution.  I  re 
member,  too,  that  our  grandfather,  when  his  friends  came  to 
visit  him,  was  wont  to  summon  my  brother  to  read  the  manu 
script  of  his  poems,  and  of  once  hiring  him  to  write  an  elegy 
on  the  death  of  the  Gerrymander.*  1  still  retain  in  memory 
fragments  and  entire  poems  written  about  this  period,  many 
of  which  were  never  printed." 

At  the  same  celebration  at  Chicago,  a  brother  still  young 
er,  Mr.  John  H.  Bryant,  said :  "  In  my  early  childhood  I 
looked  up  to  him  with  a  feeling  of  wonder  and  awe ;  and 
from  that  day  my  love  and  veneration  for  him  have  never  fal 
tered,  but  have  grown  deeper  and  stronger  to  this  very  hour. 
When  I  was  yet  a  child,  I  well  remember  that  his  return 
home  was  always  an  occasion  of  joy  to  the  whole  family,  in 
which  I  warmly  participated,  although  not  old  enough  to 
fully  appreciate  the  cause  of  the  delight.  He  was  lively  and 
playful,  tossed  me  about,  and  frolicked  with  me  in  a  way  that 
made  me  look  upon  him  as  my  best  friend.  He  seemed  to 
handle  me  so  easily  that  I  came  to  have  great  respect  for  his 
prowess  and  strength,  and  I  used  to  brag  to  other  boys  about 
my  stout  brother ;  but  I  afterward  learned  that  his  strength 
was  not  remarkable,  but  that  he  had  great  skill  and  celerity  in 
the  use  of  it." 

The  autobiography  says  that  our  student,  while  at  college, 
paid  some  attention  to  Latin  prosody,  besides  engaging  in  a 

*  The  Gerrymander  was  a  monstrous  figure  which  the  Federal  newspapers  con 
structed  out  of  the  outlines  made  on  the  map  of  Massachusetts,  by  a  peculiar  ar 
rangement  of  electoral  districts,  which  Mr.  Elbridge  Gerry  was  said  to  have  con 
trived  in  order  to  secure  a  legislature  which  would  elect  him  to  the  United  States 
Senate.  Mr.  Gerry  was  a  man  of  great  ability  and  distinction — member  of  the  Pro 
vincial  Congress,  one  of  the  Continental  Congress  in  which  Hancock  and  Adams 
served,  a  signer  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  a  Judge  of  the  Court  of  Ad 
miralty,  a  Governor  of  Massachusetts  in  1810,  and  Envoy  to  France,  and  Vice-Presi 
dent  in  Madison's  time  ;  but  the  effect  of  this  caricature  was  to  destroy  him  politi 
cally  for  the  nonce ;  and  up  to  the  present  time  the  word  Gerrymander  is  used  as  a 
slang  phrase  descriptive  of  the  fraudulent  manipulation  of  electoral  districts. 


96  THE  COLLEGE  STUDENT. 

good  deal  of  miscellaneous  reading,  but  it  does  not  refer  to 
what  cannot  but  be  regarded  as  the  greatest  benefit  he  derived 
from  his  studies  there — his  introduction  to  the  Greek  poets. 
It  was  more  than  an  introduction  in  his  case  ;  it  was  the  awak 
ening  of  his  mind  to  the  peculiar  spirit  and  art  of  those  writ 
ers.  At  least,  one  is  compelled  to  infer  as  much  from  the  fact 
that,  from  this  time,  for  two  or  three  years  onward,  his  only 
translations,  excepting  a  few  from  Horace — whose  education 
at  Athens  had  made  him  more  or  less  Grecian — were  confined 
to  the  Greeks.  Among  these  translations,  in  addition  to  four 
of  Lucian's  "  Dialogues  of  the  Dead,"  rendered  in  prose,  were 
several  odes  of  Anacreon,  the  lines  of  Mimnermus  of  Colo 
phon  on  the  "  Beauty  and  Joy  of  Youth,"  one  of  Dion's  idyls, 
and  choruses  from  Sophocles.  It  is  true  that  seven  months 
are  but  a  short  period  wherein  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the 
rich  world  haunted  by  the  Grecian  muses  (or  of  any  other 
knowledge,  in  fact),  but  it  is  long  enough  to  awaken  the  curi 
osity  of  a  fresh  and  sympathetic  young  mind,  endowed  with 
poetic  sensibilities,  and  yearning  with  poetic  ambitions.  He 
could  hardly  have  acquired  that  familiarity  with  them,  which 
faithful  translation  implies,  without  acquiring  also  some  per 
ception  of  their  spirit  and  tone.  The  peculiarities  of  Greek 
literature  lie  deep,  no  doubt,  and  yet  they  are  so  pervasive 
that  they  lie  on  the  surface  no  less ;  and  any  quick  and 
thoughtful  student,  intent  upon  the  object,  may  get  at  them  in 
a  little  while.  The  simplicity  of  diction,  as  we  call  that  ex 
quisite  choice  of  words  which  has  no  word  too  much  nor  any 
word  out  of  place  ;  the  harmonious  rhythms,  beating  like  the 
pulses  of  a  healthful  body,  and  uniting  the  tenderest  grace 
with  robust  and  masculine  strength  ;  the  vivid  imaginative 
ness,  that  finds  for  the  most  subtle  and  visionary  gleams  of 
thought  a  perfect  concrete  form ;  and  the  austerity  of  judg 
ment,  that  binds  the  most  impetuous  flights  of  imagination 
with  chains  of  beauty,  and  subdues  the  ecstasies  of  passion 
to  a  god-like  repose — these  are  qualities  that  may  be  seen  at  a 
glance,  although  they  furnish  food  for  the  studies  of  a  lifetime. 


STUDIES  AND  RAMBLES. 


97 


Mr.  Bryant  was  at  that  period  of  life  when  the  intellect  is 
most  restless,  inquisitive,  and  daring,  and  it  was  quite  impos 
sible  for  him  to  have  studied  such  models  as  he  did  and  re 
main  contented  with  the  poetic  judgments  that  he  had  been 
taught  to  form.  At  any  rate,  he  was  full  of  these  new  acqui 
sitions  when  he  returned  home,  and,  although  he  gave  some 
little  time  to  the  study  of  the  natural  sciences,  particularly  of 
chemistry  and  botany,  his  real  interest  lay  with  the  poets. 
His  old  idols,  the  wits  that  shone  and  sparkled  in  the  age  of 
Anne,  lost  their  lustre  amid  the  splendors  cast  by  the  Grecian 
luminaries.  He  had  loved  them  as  a  child  for  their  pictures, 
their  sentiment,  and  their  wit,  to  say  nothing  of  their  musical 
jingle,  but  he  was  now,  as  a  youth,  beginning  to  study  them 
in  the  light  of  a  higher  art.  He  soon  saw  that  they  were 
only  men  of  the  town,  of  the  coffee-house  and  the  drawing- 
room,  who  walked  in  slippers,  and  loved  to  dress  in  silk  at 
tire,  and  not  men  of  the  woods  and  fields,  who  walked  upon 
the  ground  and  saw  nature  with  their  own  eyes.  Cowper, 
Thompson,  Burns,  and  Southey  were  discovered  to  be  much 
better  guides  than  his  former  models,  and  to  them  henceforth 
he  devoted  his  attention. 

These  studies,  however,  did  not  seduce  him  from  his  ram 
bles,  during  one  of  which  his  thoughts  took  a  shape  that  proved 
to  be  of  the  greatest  consequence  to  his  poetic  growth.  He 
had  been  engaged,  as  he  says,*  in  comparing  Blair's  poem 
of  "  The  Grave "  with  another  of  the  same  cast  by  Bishop 
Porteus;  and  his  mind  was  also  considerably  occupied  with 
a  recent  volume  of  Kirke  White's  verses — those  "  Melodies  of 
Death,"  to  use  a  phrase  from  the  ode  to  the  Rosemary.  It 
was  in  the  autumn;  the  blue  of  the  summer  sky  had  faded 
into  gray,  and  the  brown  earth  was  heaped  with  sere  and 
withered  emblems  of  the  departed  glory  of  the  year.  As  he 
trod  upon  the  hollow-sounding  ground,  in  the  loneliness  of 
the  woods,  and  among  the  prostrate  trunks  of  trees,  that 

TOL.  L— 8  *  "  Autobi°SraPhy."  P-  37- 


98  THE  COLLEGE  STUDENT. 

for  generations  had  been  mouldering  into  dust,  he  thought 
how  the  vast  solitudes  about  him  were  filled  with  the  same 
sad  tokens  of  decay.  He  asked  himself,  as  the  thought  ex 
panded  in  his  mind,  What,  indeed,  is  the  whole  earth  but  a 
great  sepulchre  of  once  living  things  ;  and  its  skies  and  stars, 
but  the  witnesses  and  decorations  of  a  tomb  ?  All  that  ever 
trod  its  surface,  even  they  who  preceded  the  kings  and  patri 
archs  of  the  ancient  world,  the  teeming  populations  of  buried 
cities  that  tradition  itself  has  forgotten,  are  mingled  with  its 
soil ;  all  who  tread  it  now  in  the  flush  of  beauty,  hope,  and  joy, 
will  soon  lie  down  with  them,  and  all  who  are  yet  to  tread  it 
in  ages  still  unknown,  "  matron  and  maid,  and  the  sweet  babe 
and  the  gray-headed  man,"  will  join  the  innumerable  hosts  that 
have  gone  the  dusky  way. 

While  his  mind  was  yet  tossing  with  the  thought,  he  hur 
ried  home,  and  endeavored  to  paint  it  to  the  eye,  and  render 
it  in  music  to  the  ear.  He  began  abruptly,  in  the  middle  of  a 
line: 

"  Yet  a  few  days,  and  thee 

The  all-beholding  sun  shall  see  no  more 

In  all  his  course  ;  " 

and,  working  through  the  various  suggestions  of  his  theme,  he 
ended  no  less  abruptly  : 

"  Thousands  more 

Will  share  thy  destiny ;  the  tittering  world 
Dance  to  the  grave.     The  busy  brood  of  care 
Plods  on,  and  each  one  chooses  as  before 
His  favorite  phantom ;  yet  all  these  shall  leave 
Their  mirth  and  their  employments,  and  shall  come 
And  make  their  bed  with  thee."* 

This  poem,  for  which  he  coined  a  name  from  the  Greek, 
"  Thanatopsis,"  was,  says  the  poet  Stoddard,  "  the  greatest 

*  This  is  the  form  of  the  poem  as  it  was  first  published.     See  "  Poetical  Works," 
vol.  i,  notes. 


THANATOPSIS.  ^ 

poem  ever  written  by  so  young  a  man."  Certainly,  it  is 
marked  by  a  grandeur  and  profundity  of  thought,  a  breadth 
of  treatment,  and  an  imaginative  reach  that  surprises  us  in 
one  of  his  age — only  seventeen ;  but  what  renders  it  more  re 
markable  is  the  suddenness  with  which  it  breaks  away  from 
everything  he  had  hitherto  attempted.  There  is  nothing  at 
all  in  his  antecedent  efforts  or  aspirations  to  account  for  it 
fully ;  nor  in  the  models  he  studied.  A  germ  of  the  leading 
thought — a  rude,  uncouth  germ — is  to  be  found  in  Blair,  who 
asks: 

"  What  is  this  world  ? 
What  but  a  spacious  burial-field  unwalled, 
Strewed  with  death's  spoils,  the  spoils  of  animals 
Savage  and  tame,  and  full  of  dead  men's  bones. 
The  very  turf  on  which  we  tread  once  lived, 
And  we  that  live  must  lend  our  carcasses 
To  cover  our  own  offspring;  in  their  turns 
They  too  must  cover  theirs." 

The  versification  may,  perhaps,  bear  traces  of  Cowper  and 
Southey,  although  it  is  more  terse,  compact,  energetic,  and 
harmonious  than  that  of  either  of  them ;  its  pauses,  cadences, 
rhythms  are  different,  and  it  has  a  movement  of  its  own,  a 
deep  organ-like  roll,  which  corresponds  to  the  sombre  nature 
of  the  theme.  A  lingering  memory  of  the  sublime  lamenta 
tions  of  Job,  an  impression  from  the  Greeks  of  that  ineffable 
sadness  which  moans  through  even  their  lightest  music,  and 
his  recent  readings,  may  all  have  conspired  to  influence  its 
tone ;  but  the  real  inspiration  of  it  came  from  the  infinite  soli 
tudes  of  our  forests,  stretching  interminably  inland  over  the 
silent  work  of  death  ever  going  on  within  their  depths,  which 
has  been  going  on  since  the  far  beginning  of  time,  and  will  be 
going  on  till  time  shall  be  no  more. 

And  as  it  came  out  of  the  heart  of  our  primeval  woods, 
so  it  first  gave  articulate  voice  to  the  genius  of  the  New 
World,  which  is  yet,  as  the  geologists  tell  us,  older  than 


100  THE  COLLEGE  STUDENT. 

the  Old.  For  the  first  time  on  this  continent  a  poem  was 
written  destined  to  general  admiration  and  enduring  fame.  It 
in  fact  began  our  poetic  history,  and,  whatever  great  things 
have  since  been  done  or  will  yet  be  done,  to  "  Thanatopsis  " 
belongs  the  glory  of  the  morning  star,  which  glitters  on  the 
front  of  day,  and  only  fades  in  the  superior  light  it  has  itself 
announced. 

Contrary  to  his  custom,  the  youthful  poet  did  not  take  this 
poem  to  his  father  for  criticism,  nor  even  read  it  to  his  brothers 
for  their  approval,  but  he  carefully  hid  it  away  in  a  pigeon-hole 
of  his  father's  desk,  on  which  it  had  been  written.  Whether 
he  considered  it  too  incomplete  to  be  shown,  or  was  doubtful 
of  the  reception  that  might  be  vouchsafed  the  sentiment  of  it, 
which  contemplated  death,  not  as  the  penalty  of  one  man's 
disobedience,  but  as  a  universal  and  even  gracious  fact  in  the 
economy  of  nature,*  is  not  known.  The  probability  is  that 
it  was  merely  allowed  to  slumber  until  it  could  be  amended. 
The  theme  had  so  filled  his  imagination  by  its  magnitude  and 
suggestiveness,  that  any  attempt  to  give  it  form,  and  particu 
larly  the  attempt  of  a  tyro,  must  have  seemed  to  him  pre- 


*  Two  critics  have  said  that  "  Thanatopsis  "  is  a  pagan  poem,  because  there  is 
no  mention  of  the  Deity  in  it,  nor  recognition  of  the  Christian  doctrine  of  resur 
rection  and  immortality.  Certainly,  in  its  original  form  there  is  no  intimation  of  a 
belief  in  the  continuous  consciousness  of  fhe  individual,  showing  the  young  poet's 
sympathy  with  the  doubts  and  perplexities  of  the  early  part  of  the  present  century. 
But  was  such  an  intimation  required  by  his  theme  ?  Is  the  artist,  who  describes  a 
great  natural  fact,  obliged  to  include  the  supernatural  ?  Nature  knows  absolutely 
nothing  of  a  hereafter  ;  and,  if  the  poet  had  introduced  the  topic  more  positively,  he 
would  have  departed  from  his  main  purpose.  His  mind  was  directed  to  a  single  ob 
ject — the  universality  of  Death  in  the  natural  order,  and  the  sentiments  inspired  by 
that  fact ;  he  therefore  named  his  poem  "  Thanatopsis,  or  a  View  of  Death  "  ;  and  to 
invoke  another  order  of  thought  would  have  been  to  break  the  unity  of  his  contem 
plations.  Apart,  however,  from  the  merely  aesthetic  question — what  the  critics  allege 
as  a  defect  of  the  poem  is  really  one  of  its  great  claims  to  originality.  It  takes  the 
idea  of  Death  out  of  its  theological  aspects  and  sophistications,  and  the  perversions 
of  conscience  with  which  they  are  connected,  and  restores  it  to  its  proper  place  in 
the  vast  scheme  of  things.  This,  in  itself,  was  a  mark  of  genius  in  a  youth  of  his 
time  and  education. 


EFFECTS  OF   THE  POEM.  IQI 

sumptuous  and  inadequate  to  the  last  degree,  and  he  reserved 
it  for  a  time  when  maturer  skill  should  qualify  him  to  render 
his  work  a  worthier  expression  of  his  thought.  Imperfect  as 
it  was,  however,  the  effort  served  to  awaken  him  to  a  clearer 
consciousness  of  his  powers,  and  of  the  direction  in  which  they 
might  be  best  applied. 


CHAPTER   SIXTH. 

POEMS   ON  LOVE  AND   DEATH. 
A.  D.    I8ll-l8l4. 

THE  profession  for  which  Cullen  was  originally  intended 
was  that  of  medicine,  in  accordance  with  an  almost  immemo 
rial  custom  of  his  family.  The  father,  grandfather,  and  great 
grandfather  had  practised  the  gentle  art  of  healing,  and  the 
father,  in  naming  him  after  one  of  the  most  illustrious  physi 
cians  of  Scotland — William  Cullen — wished  to  indicate  his 
preferences  as  to  the  destination  of  his  son.  But  the  hard 
ships  encountered  in  his  own  course  and  the  smallness  of  his 
material  gains  had  somewhat  modified  his  desires.  Perhaps 
the  boy's  promise  of  intellectual  powers  turned  his  attention 
to  other  fields,  in  which  he  supposed  they  might  be  more 
brilliantly  displayed.  A  merely  literary  career  was,  of  course, 
not  to  be  thought  of,  in  the  condition  of  our  literature  at  that 
day.  A  few  men,  in  past  times,  had  endeavored  to  live  by 
their  wits,  like  Robert  Treat  Paine  and  Philip  Freneau,  but 
their  examples  were  not  encouraging,  for  Paine  died  a  sot, 
and  Freneau  became  a  mere  dependent  upon  official  patronage. 

The  law,  with  its  prospects  of  political  preferment,  pre 
sented  greater  attractions  to  youthful  ability  than  any  other 
walk,  and,  as  Cullen  had  already  shown  in  his  satires  some  apt 
ness  for  public  discussions,  it  was  decided  that  he  should  be 
come  a  lawyer.  His  shy  and  delicate  nature  was  not  precisely 
fitted  to  the  turmoils  of  politics  or  the  rude  conflicts  of  the  bar ; 
but  the  pursuit  was  an  intellectual  one,  not  wholly  inconsistent 
with  the  indulgence  of  his  poetic  bents,  and  so  he  submitted 


AT   WORTHINGTON. 


103 


willingly  to  the  choice  of  his  parents.  In  December,  1811,  he 
was  put  in  charge  of  Mr.  Howe,  of  Worthington,  to  be  ini 
tiated  into  the  mysteries  of  Blackstone,  Stephens,  and  Coke. 
Mr.  Howe  was  at  this  time  a  widower,  but  in  the  course  of 
the  next  year  was  married  again,  to  a  Miss  Robbins,  of  Bos 
ton,  who,  in  some  reminiscences  written  for  the  late  William 
S.  Thayer,  Consul-General  of  the  United  States  for  Egypt, 
recalls  the  youthful  poet.*  "  The  first  time  I  saw  Mr.  Bryant," 
she  says,  "  was  in  the  autumn  of  1813  ;  he  was  then  a  student 
in  my  husband's  office,  and  about  nineteen  years  of  age.  He 
was  quiet,  reserved,  and  diffident,  so  that  I  formed  but  little 
acquaintance  with  him ;  but  I  learned  from  my  husband  that 
he  was  a  diligent  student,  not  only  of  his  profession,  but  of  all 
the  good  books  he  had  time  for,  including  the  classics  and 
botany.  He  was  a  practical  botanist,  going  to  the  woods  and 
fields  for  his  specimens.  My  husband  feared  that  Bryant 
would  be  backward  about  speaking,  and,  I  think,  wrote  to  him 
afterward  to  accustom  himself  to  the  practice.  I  doubt  if  he 
ever  satisfied  himself  in  that  branch  of  his  profession."  One 
reason  why  Mrs.  Howe  formed  but  little  acquaintance  with 
her  husband's  pupil  was,  that  he  was  afraid  of  her,  as  it  ap 
pears  by  a  letter  he  wrote  to  one  of  his  sisters.  He  had  never 
seen  a  grand  lady  in  his  life,  and  he  shrank  from  the  encoun 
ter  of  one  reputed  to  be  so  cultivated  and  so  eloquent  in  con 
versation.  He  was  not,  however,  as  diligent  a  student  as 
she  represents.  Too  conscientious  to  neglect  his  studies  alto 
gether,  he  yet  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  in  other  direc 
tions.  A  month  after  reaching  Worthington  he  congratulated 
himself  in  a  little  poemf  on  his  escape  from  the  farm,  because 


*  Communicated  by  Miss  Sarah  Thayer,  of  Northampton,  a  sister  of  Mr.  W.  S. 

Thayer. 

tuAD  MUSAM. 

"  So  long  neglectful  of  thy  dues, 

And  absent  from  thy  shrine  so  long, 
Say,  wilt  thou  deign,  Immortal  Muse, 
Again  to  inspire  thy  votary's  song  ? 


104  POEMS  ON  LOVE  AND  DEATH. 

now  he  might  devote  himself  to  the  Muse  without  stint.  Ac 
cordingly,  he  turned  his  attention  to  spendees  and  dactyls  quite 
as  much  as  to  feoffments  and  fees-tail.  Mr.  Howe  was  a  skil 
ful  teacher,  and  lent  him  what  assistance  he  could,  carrying  his 
professional  zeal  so  far,  indeed,  that  one  day,  when  he  found 
his  pupil  reading  a  book  of  verses,  he  seriously  warned  him 
against  such  a  sad  waste  of  his  time.  The  book  happened  to 
be  Wordsworth's  "  Lyrical  Ballads,"  which  the  young  man 
had  picked  up  at  home  and  taken  with  him ;  and  the  warning 
was  doubtless  well  deserved.  Mr.  Richard  H.  Dana,  writing 
afterward,  says,  "  I  never  shall  forget  with  what  feeling  my 
friend  Bryant,  some  years  ago,  described  to  me  the  effect  pro 
duced  upon  him  by  his  meeting  for  the  first  time  with  Words 
worth's  ballads.  He  said  that,  upon  opening  the  book,  a 
thousand  springs  seemed  to  gush  up  at  once  in  his  heart, 
and  the  face  of  Nature,  of  a  sudden,  to  change  into  a  strange 
freshness  and  life.  He  had  felt  the  sympathetic  touch  from 
an  according  mind,  and  you  see  how  instantly  his  powers 
and  affections  shot  over  the  earth  and  through  his  kind." 
Mr.  Dana's  own  partiality  for  Wordsworth  may  have  col 
ored  his  language  a  little;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  Mr. 
Bryant  regarded  the  volume  as  a  precious  discovery.  It 
introduced  him,  as  Mr.  Dana  says,  to  a  kindred  mind — to  one 
endowed,  like  himself,  with  pure  and  simple  tastes,  and  ex 
quisitely  alive  to  all  the  sweet  and  gentle  influences  of  exter 
nal  nature.  How  hard  it  must  have  been  to  be  debarred  the 
study  of  a  work  which  disclosed  to  him  such  sources  of  new 
delight ! 

The  time  lias  been  when  fresh  as  air 

I  loved  at  morn  the  hills  to  climb, 
With  dew-drenched  feet  and  bosom  bare, 

And  ponder  on  the  artless  rhyme  ; 
And  through  the  long  laborious  day 

(For  mine  has  been  the  peasant's  toil), 
I  hummed  the  meditated  lay, 

While  the  slow  oxen  turned  the  soil." 
WORTHINGTON',  January,  1812. 


YEARNINGS  FOR  COLLEGE.  IO5 

But  there  were  other  reasons  why  he  was  not  entirely  sat- 
isfied  with  his  studies  of  law.  He  wanted  to  get  to  college 
again.  His  friend,  John  Avery,  was  at  Yale,  luxuriating  among 
its  literary  and  scientific  treasures,  while  he  was  confined  to 
the  little  village  of  Worthington,  which  he  described  in  a  let 
ter  to  Avery  as  "  consisting  of  a  blacksmith-shop  and  a  cow- 
stable,  at  either  of  which  places  he  might  be  found,  while  the 
only  entertainment  it  afforded  was  bound  up  in  the  pages  of 
'  Knickerbocker.' "  Avery's  replies  must  have  fostered  his  dis 
content,  for  he  tells  the  "  dear  old  chum  "  that,  "  with  his  acqui 
sitions,  he  would  be  readily  admitted  to  the  Junior  class." 
Then  he  expatiated  on  the  pleasures  of  reading  Xenophon, 
Thucydides,  and  Herodotus,  with  the  hope  of  getting  into 
Longinus  and  Plato  soon;  what  an  unsurpassed  cabinet  of 
minerals  there  was !  how  brilliant  the  lectures  of  Silliman  on 
chemistry  and  natural  philosophy !  how,  at  the  debates,  Dr. 
Dwight  himself  presided,  whose  "  decisions  were  most  elo 
quent  and  instructive,"  he  not  being  "  afraid  to  give  his  opin 
ions  on  the  great  principles  of  government !  "  But,  concludes 
Avery,  after  he  had  cast  those  tempting  baits  before  the  lone 
student  of  the  hills :  "  I  approve  of  your  philosophy,  in  gen 
eral,  that  it  is  more  noble  to  rule  the  passions  than  to  pene 
trate  the  depths  of  mathematical  science,  or  shine  in  the  de 
partments  of  literature."  It  was  a  good  philosophy,  indeed, 
for  one  pining  after  opportunities  of  study  that  he  knew 
would  never  come. 

Nor  was  the  condition  of  public  affairs,  in  which,  like 
a  good  citizen,  he  always  took  some  interest,  such  as  to 
give  him  much  satisfaction.  The  federal  party  had  lost 
ground  throughout  the  Union.  Madison,  the  friend  and 
disciple  of  the  hated  Jefferson,  was  about  to  be  chosen  his 
successor  in  the  Presidency.  A  large  majority  of  Repub 
licans  ruled  in  both  houses  of  Congress;  but,  no  longer  re 
strained  by  the  prudent  counsels  of  Jefferson,  they  had  be 
come,  under  the  fiery  impulses  of  young  Clay  and  young 
Calhoun,  a  war  party,  bent  upon  embroiling  the  country  in 


106  POEMS  ON  LOVE  AND  DEATH. 

hostilities  with  England.  War  was  in  fact  declared  a  few 
months  after  the  removal  to  Worthington  (June,  1812),  when 
the  hot  political  contests  that  grew  out  of  it,  the  threats  of 
invasion  from  Canada,  the  raisings  of  troops,  the  varying 
reports  of  successes  and  defeats,  the  brilliant  exploits  of  our 
navy  on  the  lakes  and  on  the  ocean,  and  the  disgraceful 
burning  of  Washington  by  the  British  —  kept  the  public 
mind  in  such  a  ferment  that,  if  Mr.  Bryant  shared  in  it, 
very  little  real  hard  study  was  to  be  done  even  in  the  back 
woods. 

There  is,  however,  no  evidence  in  any  of  his  papers  that 
he  was  unusually  affected  by  the  general  agitation ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  remarkable  that  during  these  years,  from  the 
spring  of  1812  to  the  autumn  of  1814,  when  the  domestic 
news,  like  that  from  abroad  of  Napoleon's  gigantic  expedi 
tion  to  Russia,  with  its  terrible  reverses,  was  so  stirring,  his 
Muse,  though  newly  awakened  by  Wordsworth,  was  almost 
silent.  Accustomed  to  put  his  feelings  on  all  subjects  into 
verse,  there  is  not  a  word  that  relates  to  these  great  public 
occurrences  excepting  a  Fourth  of  July  ode,  written  at  the  re 
quest  of  the  Washington  Benevolent  Society  of  Boston,  made 
through  his  father.* 

*  This  was  a  sort  of  Tyrtean  blast,  as  the  following  specimen  of  it  will  show  . 

"  Should  Justice  call  to  battle 

The  applauding  shout  we'd  raise  ; 
A  million  swords  would  leave  their  sheath, 

A  million  bayonets  blaze. 
The  stern  resolve,  the  courage  high, 

The  mind  untam'd  by  ill, 
The  fires  that  warmed  our  leader's  breast 

His  followers'  bosoms  fill. 
Our  Fathers  bore  the  shock  of  war, 

Their  sons  can  bear  it  still. 

"  The  same  ennobling  spirit 

That  kindles  valor's  flame, 
That  nerves  us  to  a  war  of  right, 
Forbids  a  war  of  shame ; 


A  LOVE  EPISODE. 


ID/ 


The  real  reason  of  his  silence  at  this  period  was,  as  I  sup 
pose,  a  contest  going  on  in  the  youth's  own  mind,  which  had 
for  him,  as  it  will  have  for  the  reader,  more  interest  than 
any  public  events.  Carefully  preserved  among  his  papers 
— and  he  was  for  the  most  part  inattentive  in  keeping  what 
concerned  himself  only — are  several  fragments  of  poems  ex 
pressive  of  the  joys,  the  doubts,  and  the  disappointments  of 
love.  These,  when  I  opened  them,  seemed  to  me  mere  lit 
erary  exercises,  but  on  closer  inspection  they  disclosed  a  seri 
ousness  of  feeling  and  certain  reactive  effects  upon  his  mind 
that  led  me  to  suspect  that  possibly  a  real  experience  lay 
behind  them.  I  was  confirmed  in  this  suspicion  by  the 
reminiscences  of  Mr.  Arthur  Bryant,  who  says  that,  while 
his  brother  wras  a  student  of  law  in  Worthington,  a  distin 
guished  friend  of  their  father  came  from  Rhode  Island  on 
a  visit  to  Cummington,  bringing  with  him  a  beautiful  and 
accomplished  daughter,  who  fascinated  the  poet,  so  that  for 
some  time  afterward  they  maintained  an  earnest  correspond 
ence.  Of  the  incidents  of  the  brief  attachment,  however,  noth 
ing  more  is  known;  but,  if  we  are  permitted  to  form  con 
jectures  from  the  poems  themselves,  it  would  appear  that, 

For  not  in  Conquest's  impious  train 

Shall  Freedom's  children  stand  ; 
Nor  shall,  in  guilty  fray,  be  raised 

The  high-souled  warrior's  hand  ; 
Nor  shall  the  patriot  draw  his  sword 

At  Gallia's  proud  command. 

"  No  !  by  our  Father's  ashes, 

And  by  their  sacred  cause, 
The  Gaul  shall  never  call  us  slaves, 

Shall  never  give  us  laws  ; 
Even  let  him  from  a  swarming  fleet 

Debark  his  veteran  host, 
A  living  wall  of  patriot  hearts 

Shall  fence  the  frowning  coast — 
A  bolder  race  than  gen.erous  Spain, 

A  better  cause  we  boast." 


108  POEMS  ON  LOVE  AND  DEATH. 

while  it  was  at  first  hearty  and  sincere,  the  course  of  it  did 
not  run  smoothly,  and  the  end  proved  very  painful  for  some 
reason  or  other. 

As  these  poems  are  fragmentary  and  unfinished,  they  are 
not  quoted  as  poems,  but  to  show  how  far  they  shadow  forth 
a  little  romantic  story.  The  earliest  of  them,  mere  random 
lines,  is  a  vague  intimation  of  worship  at  a  distance,  and  en 
deavors  to  describe  how  a  youthful  poet,  dreaming  of  his 
love,  might  see  in  the  dawn  that  reddens  the  snowy  hills,  the 
blushes  of  life  on  the  cheeks  of  the  fair  maid  of  his  adoration. 
In  the  dusky  air,  he  sees  the  soft  dun  shadow  of  her  hair ;  in 
the  beautiful  stars  above  the  summits,  her  lustrous  eyes ;  and 
in  the  streams  of  the  valleys,  the  currents  of  his  own  heart, 
that  look  up  and  exclaim, 

"  How  bright,  but  oh  !  how  far !  " 

The  second  poem  refers,  but  still  remotely,  to  a  mysterious 
charm,  of  which  he  has  suddenly  become  aware : 

"  Let  no  rude  sound  be  uttered  nigh, 

Be  heard  no  step  profane, 
While  tempered  to  the  heaven-taught  lyre 
I  pour  the  sacred  strain. 

"  There  is  a  charm  of  heavenly  birth, 

A  charm  of  mystick  name, 
Of  power  the  virgin's  laughing  eye 
To  light  with  lovelier  flame, 

"  That  bids  the  rose-enamelled  cheek 

A  riper  blush  assume, 
To  beauty  gives  a  fairer  grace, 
To  youth  a  deeper  bloom. 

"  It  dwells  not  in  the  teeming  mine, 
The  diamond's  caverned  home, 
Nor  where  along  their  coral  bed 
The  sea's  green  waters  foam. 


MISGIVINGS.  109 

"  Nor  Africk  sends  this  wondrous  gift, 

Nor  India's  purple  shores, 
Nor  regions  where  the  power  of  frost 
Has  heaped  his  nitrick  stores. 

"  But  in  the  modest  virgin's  face 

Is  all  its  influence  seen, 
It  loves  the  eye  of  timid  look, 
The  soft  retiring  mien,"  etc.,  etc. 

WORTHINGTON,  August,  1 8 12. 

He  was  enabled  to  speak  more  boldly  in  a  version  of  the 
words  of  old  Paulus  Silentiarius : 

"  The  peerless  rose  no  added  charm  receives 
From  wreaths  of  flowers  around  its  virgin  leaves, 
Nor  thou,  sweet  maid,  from  robes  of  costly  care, 
Nor  gems  that  sparkle  in  thy  glossy  hair ; 
White  is  the  pearl,  more  white  thy  bosom's  snow, 
Among  thy  locks  the  gold  forgets  to  glow, 
In  vain  the  gem  that  India's  shore  supplies, 
The  gleaming  jacinth,  emulates  thine  eyes, 
But  thy  moist  lip  and  airy  grace  of  frame 
By  art  unaided  wake  the  unbidden  flame, 
For  these  I  pine — till  to  my  ardent  gaze 
Thy  tell-tale  eye  the  dawn  of  love  betrays." 

But,  the  poet  stops  to  ask,  shall  he  yield  himself  to  this 
pleasing  but  delusive  passion — he  that  had  formed  for  himself, 
whose  friends  had  formed  for  him,  such  ambitious  hopes  of 
success,  in  a  far  different  way. 

"  Yes,  I  have  listened  all  too  long, 
Deluder !  to  thy  syren  song. 
Ah,  love  !  when  first  its  musick  led 
My  cheated  steps  thy  paths  to  tread, 
I  never  dreamed  those  airs  divine, 
And  those  fair  quiet  walks  were  thine. 


1 10  POEMS  ON  LOVE  AND  DEATH. 

"  And  I  would  once  have  scoffed  in  scorn 
At  him  who  dared  pronounce  me  born 
To  bend  at  beauty's  shrine  enchained, 
And  do  the  homage  I  disdained ; 
I  little  thought  the  hour  to  see, 
When  a  blue  eye  could  madden  me. 

"  I  seek  the  scenes  that  once  I  sought 
To  bring  high  dreams  and  holy  thought, 
That  gave  my  early  numbers  birth, 
The  unpeopled  majesty  of  earth — 
One  image  still  too  loved  to  fade, 
Is  with  me  in  the  lonely  shade. 

"  Yet,  sometimes  there  dejected  strays 
The  genius  of  my  better  days ; 
And  I  am  troubled  when  I  trace 
The  darkened  grandeur  of  his  face, 
While  thus  he  breathes  his  warnings  high, 
Betwixt  rebuke  and  prophecy. 

"  '  When  riper  years  this  dream  dispel, 
Thy  heart  shall  rue  its  folly  well ; 
And  thou  with  bitter  tears  shall  gaze 
On  the  blank  train  of  wasted  days ; 
And  curse  the  withering  spell  at  length, 
That  broke  thy  spirit's  early  strength. 

"  '  There  were,  in  early  life,  of  thee 
Who  augured  high  and  happily  ; 
Who  loved  and  watched  the  opening  shoot, 
And  propped  the  stem  and  looked  for  fruit ; 
And  they  shall  see  its  blossoms  die, 
Withered  before  a  woman's  eye.'  " 

Then  he  answers  himself,  half  in  jest  and  half  in  earnest,  by 
paraphrasing  several  odes  of  the  old  Grecian  master,  Anacreon 
(the  I4th,  the  soth,  and  36th),  which  relate  how,  resolving  to 
set  the  little  god  at  defiance,  the  dimpled  archer  took  his  bow 
and  golden  case  of  arrows,  and  dared  him  to  the  field.  En- 


SEPARATION.  Ill 

cased  in  mail,  like  that  which  Pelides  wore  in  battle,  he  stood 
manfully  up  to  the  enemy — but  alas!  and  alas!  he  was  pierced 
through  and  through  for  his  rashness.  Why  attempt  to  de 
fend  the  outposts,  when  the  citadel  was  already  entered? 
Overcome,  and  a  captive,  like  that  same  little  god,  when 
bound  by  the  rosy  chains  woven  by  the  daughters  of  Beauty, 
he  wished  for  no  release  ;  it  was  so  delightful  a  slavery.  No, 
indeed,  henceforth 

"  To  love,  to  love,  shall  be  my  law," 

and  he  desires  through  all  the  vicissitudes  of  time,  even  when 
age  should  bring  gray  locks  and  the  decrepit  frame,  to  bow 
still  at  the  shrine  of  his  queen. 

Next  follows  a  time  of  separation — the  youth  must  go  away 
to  his  studies,  and  the  fair  one,  with  her  company,  to  her  own 
people — indicated  in  two  references.  The  first  is  this: 

"  The  home  thy  presence  made  so  dear, 
I  leave — the  parting  hour  is  past ; 
Yet  thy  sweet  image  haunts  me  here 
In  tears  as  when  I  saw  thee  last. 

"  It  meets  me  where  the  woods  are  deep, 
It  comes  when  twilight  tints  depart, 
It  bends  above  me  while  I  sleep, 
With  pensive  looks  that  pierce  my  heart." 

The  other  runs  thus : 

"  When  on  Fernandez'  isle,  whose  cliffs  upbear 
Sweet  dells  that  blossom  in  the  unbreath'd  air, 
Stood  the  self-banished  Scot,  and  saw  the  sail 
That  brought  him,  bound  away  before  the  gale, 
And  voices  which  he  never  more  might  hear, 
Laughter  and  shout  and  song  came  to  his  ear 
With  faint  and  fainter  sound,  as  o'er  the  main 
The  glad  crew  hastened  to  their  homes  again, 
Then  turned  and  cast  his  melancholy  eye 
On  the  lone  scene  where  he  must  live  and  die, 


112  POEMS  ON  LOVE  AND  DEATH. 

And  heard  the  eternal  moaning  of  the  tide 
That  cut  him  off  from  men — his  spirit  died 
Within  him,  and  the  bitter  tears  came  fast." 

Left  alone  on  the  hills,  as  Selkirk  was  on  his  island,  there 
was  yet  the  resource  of  correspondence,  and  it  was  during 
this  absence  that  the  letters  probably  passed  which  Mr.  Arthur 
Bryant  recalls ;  but  with  the  return  of  spring,  a  year  later, 
borrowing  from  Virgil,  who  himself  borrowed  from  Theocri 
tus,  he  calls  upon  Galatea  to  come  back  from  the  sea-shore  to 
the  hills: 

"  Come,  Galatea !  hath  the  unlovely  main 

A  charm  thy  gentle  gazes  to  detain  ? 

Spring  dwells  in  beauty  here ;  her  thousand  flowers 

The  glad  earth  here  about  the  river  pours ; 

Here  o'er  the  grotto's  mouth  the  poplars  play ; 

Here  the  knit  vines  exclude  the  prying  day. 

Come,  Galatea !  bless  this  calm  retreat ; 

Come,  leave  the  maniack  seas  their  bounds  to  beat." 

WORTHINGTON,  1814. 

Galatea  must  have  come  back,  for  we  are  informed : 

"  The  gales  of  June  were  breathing  by, 

The  twilight's  last  faint  rays  were  gleaming, 
And  midway  in  the  moonless  sky 

The  star  of  Jove  was  brightly  beaming. 

"  Where  by  the  stream  the  birchen  boughs 
Dark  o'er  the  level  marge  were  playing, 
The  maiden  of  my  secret  vows 
I  met,  alone,  and  idly  straying. 

"  And  since  that  hour — for  then  my  love 

Consenting  heard  my  passion  pleaded — 
Full  well  she  knows  the  star  of  Jove, 

And  loves  the  stream  with  beeches  shaded.'1 
WORTHINGTON,  1814. 

A  little  later  the  outlooks  are  still  favorable : 


JO YS  AND  DOUBTS.  II3 

"  Dear  arc  these  heights,  though  bleak  their  sides  they  raise, 

For  here,  as  forth  in  lonely  walk  we  fare ; 
Her  cheek  to  mine  soft  Evelina  lays, 

And  breathes  those  gentle  vows  that  none  may  share. 

Mine  is  her  earliest  flame — her  virgin  care — 
The  look  of  love  her  speaking  eye  that  fills — 

To  the  known  shade,  when  Eve's  consenting  star 
Sees  his  soft  image  in  the  trembling  rills, 
My  lovely  Oread  comes — my  charmer  of  the  hills." 

CUMMINGTON,  1814. 

With  Bion,  he  tells  his  solemn  joy  to  the  skies : 

"  Hail,  holy  star  of  love,  thou  fairest  gem 

Of  all  that  twinkle  in  the  veil  of  night ! 
As  the  broad  moon  to  thee,  so  thou  to  them 

Superior  in  beauty  beamest  bright. 

Lend  me,  while  she  delays,  thy  tender  light. 
Thou  for  whom  Sol,  to  yield  his  turn  to  thine 

Stooped  to  the  glowing  West  his  hastened  flight ; 
On  deeds  of  guilt  I  call  thee  not  to  shine, 
Nor  thefts,  but  those  of  love — and  mutual  love  is  mine." 

WORTHINGTON,  1814. 

But  again  doubts  and  misgivings  intrude  in  the  midst  of  it 
all ;  and  something  apparently  has  gone  wrong : 

"  Ah,  who  would  tempt  the  hopeless  spell, 

Whose  magic  binds  the  slaves  of  Love  ? 

The  heart  his  power  has  touched  can  tell 

How  false  to  peace  his  flatteries  prove. 

"  Each  silent  sign  by  passion  taught 

To  tell  the  wish  that  thrills  the  breast, 
The  gaze  with  speechless  meaning  fraught, 
The  glowing  lip  in  secret  pressed. 

"  The  stolen  hour  by  moonlight  past, 

When  hands  are  met  and  sighs  are  deep; 
Are  wanderings  all,  for  which  at  last 

The  heart  must  bleed,  the  eye  must  weep." 
VOL.  i. — 9 


114 


POEMS  ON  LOVE  AND  DEATH. 


These  doubts  and  misgivings  are  but  the  prelude  to  some 
terrible  rupture,  when  the  delicious  charm  is  suddenly  broken, 
and  the  wounded  lover  tramples  his  affection  under  the  heels 
of  his  pride.  He  cries  out  in  his  pain  and  anger : 

"  I  knew  thee  fair — I  deemed  thee  free 

From  fraud  and  guile  and  faithless  art, 
Yet  had  I  seen  as  now  I  see, 

Thine  image  ne'er  had  stained  my  heart. 

"  Trust  not  too  far  thy  beauty's  charms  ; 

Though  fair  the  hand  that  wove  my  chain, 
I  will  not  stoop,  with  fettered  arms, 
To  do  the  homage  I  disdain. 

u  Yes,  Love  has  lost  his  power  to  wound, 

I  gave  the  treacherous  homicide, 
With  bow  unstrung  and  pinions  bound, 
A  captive  to  the  hands  of  Pride." 

There  the  love  seems  to  end ;  but  contemporary  in  date 
with  these  poems,  or  following  closely  upon  them,  is  another 
series  of  poems  of  a  wholly  different  cast,  which  we  cannot  say 
were  in  any  way  connected  with  the  former,  but  which  show,  at 
least,  that  the  serene  philosophy  expressed  in  "  Thanatopsis," 
a  few  years  before,  had  been  ruffled  by  certain  storms  of  pas 
sion  that  opened  quite  another  view  of  the  dark  abysses  of 
Death.  As  if  weary  of  life,  and  longing  for  its  extinction,  the 
poet  hears  the  voices  of  the  grim  tenants  of  the  grave  calling 
upon  him  to  take  up  his  rest  with  them.  It  is,  as  he  names  it, 

"  A  chorus  of  Ghosts  " ; 
and  it  runs  in  this  wise  :  * 


*  This  piece  was  published  ten  years  later,  with  the  signature  X. — not  the  usual  B. 
— in  the  New  York  "  Review,"  with  the  seventh  stanza,  since  supplied  by  Mr.  Arthur 
Bryant,  omitted.  It  conflicts  somewhat  with  my  interpretation  of  these  poems,  as 
this  one  is  dated  February,  1814,  which  was  before  he  had  any  reason  to  complain; 
but  the  date  may  have  been  put  on  years  afterward,  when  his  memory  was  not  clear. 


FROM   THE  SHADES.  n 

44  Come  to  thy  couch  of  iron  rest ! 

Come  share  our  silent  bed ! 
There's  room  within  the  grave-yard's  bounds 
To  lay  thy  weary  head. 

"  Come,  thou  shalt  have  a  home  like  ours, 

A  low  and  narrow  cell, 
With  a  gray  stone  to  mark  the  spot ; 
For  thee  the  turf  shall  swell. 

"  Cold  are  its  walls — but  not  for  thee — 

And  dark,  but  thou  shalt  sleep ; 

Unfelt,  the  enclosing  clods  above 

Their  endless  guard  shall  keep. 

"  Yes,  o'er  thee  where  thy  lyre  was  strung, 

Thine  earliest  haunts  to  hail, 
Shall  the  tall  crow-foot's  yellow  gems 
Bend  in  the  mountain  gale. 

"  There,  as  he  seeks  his  tardy  kine, 

When  flames  the  evening  sky, 
With  thoughtful  look,  the  cottage  boy 
Shall  pass  thy  dwelling  by. 

"  Why  shudder  at  that  rest  so  still — 

That  night  of  solid  gloom  ? 
•     If  refuge  thou  would 'st  seek  from  woe, 
'Tis  in  the  dreamless  tomb. 

"  There  is  no  tie  that  binds  to  life, 

No  charm  that  wins  thy  stay; 
To-morrow  none  will  recollect 
That  thou  didst  live  to-day. 

"  Come,  we  will  close  thy  glazing  eye, 

Compose  thy  dying  head; 
And  gently  from  its  house  of  clay 

Thy  struggling  spirit  lead." 
WORTHINGTON,  February,  1814. 

But  who  are  these  ghosts  that  invite  his  company  and  prom 
ise  him  so  much  ?     Do  they  know  aught  of  the  fate  of  a  "  dear 


u6  POEMS  ON  LOVE  AND  DEATH. 

one  "  that,  as  we  now  learn,  has  gone  to  them  ?  He  will  seek 
an  interview  with  the  awful  monarch  of  the  shades  himself, 
and  challenge  him  to  disclose  the  secrets  of  his  prison-house. 
At  midnight  he  makes  his  appeal : 

"  The  night  has  reached  its  solemn  noon, 

And  blotting  half  the  sky ; 
The  clouds  before  the  westering  moon 

In  broad  black  masses  lie. 
No  voice  is  heard — no  living  sound, 

Nor  even  the  zephyr's  breath ; 
And  I,  where  sheds  the  grove  profound 
A  night  of  deeper  horror  round, 

High  converse  hold  with  Death. 

"  He  comes — but  not  the  spectre  grim 

By  fabling  dreamers  planned, 
With  wickered  ribs  and  fleshless  limb, 

And  scythe  and  ebbing  sand. 
But  dim  as  through  the  polar  shade, 

When  sails  the  gathering  storm. 
A  shadowy  presence  vast  and  dread, 
In  terrors  wrapt,  which  ne'er  arrayed 

Distinguishable  form. 

"  '  By  all  the  dying  feel  and  fear, 

By  every  fiery  throe, 
By  all  that  tells  thy  triumphs  here 

And  all  we  dread  below ; 
By  those  dim  realms — those  portals  pale 

Whose  keys  'tis  thine  to  keep, 
I  charge  thee,  tell  the  thrilling  tale  ! 
I  charge  thee,  draw  aside  the  veil 

That  hides  the  dear  one's  sleep  ! ' ' 

WORTHINGTON,  1814. 

Death  answers  the  invocation,  not  in  person,  but  by  send 
ing  the  longed-for  object  herself  to  repeat  the  persuasions  of 
the  more  general  chorus  : 


A  DARK  INTERVIEW. 

"  It  was  my  love — that  form  I  knew — 

The  same  that  glazed  unmoving  eye; 
And  that  pure  cheek  of  bloodless  hue, 
As  when  she  slept  with  those  that  die. 

"  Why  leave  thy  quiet  cell  for  me — 

Have  not  my  tears  been  duly  shed  ? 
Have  I  not  taught  the  willow-tree 
To  weep  with  me  above  thy  head  ? 

"  And  culled  the  earliest  blooms  of  May — 
The  latest  sweets  that  Autumn  knows, 
To  strew  thy  grave — and  brush 'd  away 
From  the  cold  turf  the  winter  snows? 

"  I  deemed  that  thou  my  dreams  would'st  bless. 

A  seraph  flush'd  with  heavenly  bloom, 
And  gild  with  gleams  of  happiness 

My  few  brief  years  of  care  and  gloom. 

"  But  oh,  that  eye  is  ghastly  bright, 

It  glares  with  death,  as  mine  will  soon ; 
And  that  blanched  brow  is  cold  and  white 
As  the  pale  mist  beneath  the  moon. 

"  Oh,  wave  not  that  dim  hand  again, 

Oh,  point  not  to  thy  lowly  cell ; 
For  visions  flash  across  my  brain, 
And  thoughts  too  horrible  to  tell. 

"  I  may  not  follow  thee,  my  love, 

Nor  now  thy  dreamless  slumber  share ; 
The  cold  clods  press  thy  limbs  above, 
And  darkness  and  the  worm  are  there. 

"  Yet  a  few  hours,  and  Nature's  hand 

Itself  shall  sorrow's  balm  apply; 
And  I  shall  bless  t%  kind  command 

That  cools  this  brow  and  seals  this  eye." 
November^  1814. 


II 8  POEMS  ON  LOVE  AND  DEATH. 

This  morbid  condition  of  mind,  whatever  the  origin  of  it, 
whether  the  result  of  personal  experience  or  a  mere  dramatic 
attempt  to  bring  out  a  peculiar  situation,  was  not  of  long  con 
tinuance.  It  passed  off  without  harm,  as  such  attacks  com 
monly  do.  Allston  says  somewhere  that  young  painters  are 
apt  to  have  a  mania  at  one  time  or  another  for  painting  ban 
dits — and  it  is  not  impossible  that  young  poets  have  a  similar 
desire  to  meddle  with  the  dark  secrets  of  the  charnel-house. 


CHAPTER    SEVENTH. 

THE  LAW  STUDENT. 
A.  D.  1814,  1815. 

IN  June,  1814,  the  student  changed  his  residence  from 
Worthington  to  Bridgewater,  where  he  was  soon  engaged 
in  the  studies  of  his  profession,  and  absorbed  once  more  in 
public  affairs.  His  grandfather,  Dr.  Philip  Bryant,  lived  in 
Bridgewater,  and  for  that  reason,  doubtless,  he  was  trans 
ferred  to  that  place.  His  own  wish  was  to  complete  his 
course  in  Boston,  and  he  makes  frequent  mention  of  it  in 
letters  to  his  father,  for  the  sake  of  the  advantages,  he  says, 
and  not  in  a  spirit  of  discontent.  But  the  uniform  reply  of 
the  father  is,  that  he  cannot  afford  the  expense.  "  You  have 
cost  me  already  four  hundred  dollars  at  Mr.  Howe's,  and  I 
have  other  children  equally  entitled  to  my  care.  Besides,  my 
health  is  imperfect ;  I  have  suffered  much  from  the  fatigues 
of  the  last  season,  and,  as  I  may  not  long  be  with  you,  I  must 
do  what  I  can  for  you  all  while  I  am  still  here." 

Bridgewater  was  a  larger  town  than  any  he  had  yet  lived 
in — that  is  to  say,  it  comprised  more  houses  and  people — and 
the  conditions  of  intellectual  and  social  life  were  more  ample ; 
but  the  best  of  the  New  England  villages,  in  those  days,  con 
tained  few  persons  likely  to  appreciate  a  young  man  of  genius 
and  of  delicate  tastes,  already  enriched  by  a  considerable  knowl 
edge  of  ancient  literature,  and  cherishing  visions  of  poetic  fame. 
One  of  his  fellow-students  speaks  of  the  place  as  "  utterly  des 
titute  of  good  society,"  which  he  considers  a  benefit  to  one  en- 


120  THE  LAW  STUDENT. 

gaged  in  the  dry  study  of  the  law.  "  A  Bridge  water  winter,"  he 
adds,  "  is  more  intolerable  than  a  Bridgewater  summer — the 
wind  perpetually  shifting  from  out  to  in — now  rain,  next  snow 
— now  a  frozen  collection  of  rough  points  for  one  to  hobble 
over,  then  a  swimming  ocean  of  mud  for  one  to  wade  through." 
But  Mr.  Bryant  enjoyed  his  residence  there,  and  always  re 
ferred  to  it,  in  later  years,  as  very  pleasant.  His  teacher,  Mr. 
William  Baylies,  was  both  a  well-instructed  jurist  and  a  gentle 
man  of  cultivation  and  noble  personal  traits,  whose  friends 
were  in  the  habit  of  comparing  him,  in  appearance  and  char 
acter,  with  the  model  of  the  times,  General  Washington.  Dig 
nity  of  manner,  a  strong  sense  of  justice,  urbanity,  elevated 
maxims  of  conduct,  and  disinterestedness,  furnished  the  grounds 
of  this  comparison.*  Under  his  influence,  or  it  may  have  been 
to  escape  his  former  unhappy  state  of  feeling,  Mr.  Bryant  now 
devoted  himself  closely  to  study.  In  some  lines,  addressed 
"  to  a  friend  on  his  marriage,"  \  he  said  : 

"  O'er  Coke's  black-letter  page, 
Trimming  the  lamp  at  eve,  'tis  mine  to  pore, 
Well  pleased  to  see  the  venerable  sage 
Unlock  his  treasured  wealth  of  legal  lore ; 
And  I  that  loved  to  trace  the  woods  before, 
And  climb  the  hills  a  playmate  of  the  breeze, 
Have  vowed  to  tune  the  rural  lay  no  more, 
Have  bid  my  useless  classics  sleep  at  ease, 
And  left  the  race  of  bards  to  scribble,  starve,  and  freeze." 


*  In  an  obituary  notice  of  him,  after  his  death  in  1865,  when  he  had  reached  his 
eighty-ninth  year,  Mr.  Bryant  said  that  "he  was  a  man  of  imposing  presence,  kindly 
manners,  and  a  close  observer  of  character.  His  memory  was  stored  with  anecdotes 
of  remarkable  persons,  the  relation  of  which  at  times  made  him  very  entertaining. 
His  tastes  and  habits  of  life  were  exceedingly  simple,  though  his  fortune  was  liberal, 
and  his  disposition  of  his  income  generous.  He  had  a  supreme  contempt  for  the 
tricks  of  his  profession,  and  for  all  indirect  practices,  and  few  lawyers  ever  exercised 
their  profession  so  exempt  from  complaint  and  criticism."  Mr.  Bryant  also  wrote, 
at  the  request  of  relatives,  a  beautiful  inscription  for  his  monument. 

f  Published,  three  years  later,  in  the  "  North  American"  for  March,  1818. 


AN  ANTI-  WAR  ODE.  1 2 1 

A  montli  after  getting  to  Bridgewater  his  poetical  faculties 
were  put  in  request  for  a  Fourth  of  July  ode,  which  hardly 
broke  in  upon  his  routine,  although  it  revived  some  of  the  old 
spirit  of  the  politician.  It  was  rather  rhymed  declamation 
than  poetry,  in  which  he  took  occasion  to  deplore  the  folly 
and  ravages  of  the  war  and  to  rejoice  in  the  downfall  of  Na 
poleon,  whom  the  allies  had  shut  up  in  Elba.  He  lauded  the 
valor  and  persistency  of  England,  and  upbraided  his  own  coun 
trymen  for  having  taken  no  part  in  the  great  work  of  inde 
pendence  achieved  on  the  continent  of  Europe.*  His  assiduity 
of  study  is  evidenced  by  the  elaborate  digests  and  notes  that 
are  found  among  his  papers.  They  are  arranged  with  extreme 

*  A  few  stanzas  from  this  ode  will  show  the  spirit  of  it  : 

"  Our  skies  have  glowed  with  burning  towns, 

Our  snows  have  blushed  with  gore, 
And  fresh  is  many  a  nameless  grave 

By  Erie's  weeping  shore. 
In  sadness  let  the  anthem  flow — 

But  tell  the  men  of  strife, 
On  their  own  heads  shall  rest  the  guilt 
Of  all  this  waste  of  life. 

"  Woll  have  ye  fought,  ye  friends  of  man, 

Well  was  your  valor  shown  ; 
The  grateful  nations  breathe  from  war — 

The  tyrant  lies  o'erthrown. 
Well  might  ye  tempt  the  dangerous  fray, 

Well  dare  the  desperate  deed  : 
Ye  knew  how  just  your  cause — ye  knew 

The  voice  that  bade  ye  bleed. 

"  To  thee  the  mighty  plan  we  owe 

That  bade  the  world  be  free  ; 
The  thanks  of  nations,  Queen  of  Isles  ! 

Are  poured  to  heaven  and  thee, 
Yes  ! — hadst  not  thou,  with  fearless  arm, 

Stayed  the  descending  scourge  ; 
These  strains,  that  chant  a  nation's  birth, 

Had  haply  hymned  its  dirge." 


122  THE  LAW  STUDENT. 

care  under  appropriate  divisions  and  headings,  and  with  ample 
references  to  the  authorities  in  old  English  treatises  and  the 
more  modern  American  statutes  and  decisions.  Together, 
they  would  form  no  incomplete  manual  of  the  rudimentary 
principles  of  the  science,  as  it  existed  at  that  day.  What  is 
also  remarkable  in  them  is  the  neatness  of  the  chirography. 
The  young  man  had  not  yet  formed  his  hand,  such  as  it  was 
afterward,  rather  copying  his  father  in  this  as  he  did  in  his 
verses,  but  it  is  clear  and  full  of  character.  One  sees  in  it  de 
cision  and  vivacity,  but  only  the  germs  of  that  flowing  grace 
that  marked  it  at  a  later  period. 

It  is  creditable  to  Mr.  Bryant,  young  as  he  was,  that  his 
teacher  at  once  took  him  into  his  confidence,  and,  during  his 
absences  as  a  legislator,*  entrusted  him  with  the  control  of 
nearly  all  his  business.  Letters  passed  between  them  con 
stantly  ;  on  the  one  side  giving  reports  of  the  state  and  prog 
ress  of  cases  and  soliciting  instruction — on  the  other  impart 
ing  that  instruction,  and  with  it  the  latest  news  of  public  af 
fairs.  As  we  were  at  war  with  a  great  naval  power,  it  was 
an  important  time  in  the  history  of  parties  and  of  the  nation. 
Public  opinion  of  the  propriety  of  the  war  and  the  modes 
in  which  it  should  be  carried  on  was  very  much  divided. 
The  scenes  of  battle  on  the  ocean  or  on  the  frontier  were 
scarcely  more  fiery  than  those  of  Congress  and  the  popular 
assemblies. 

Mr.  Bryant,  it  seems,  had  no  difficulty  in  the  preliminary 
tests  of  his  profession.  Addressing  his  father,  August  16, 
1814,  he  says: 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  I  went  to  Plymouth  last  week,  where  I  stayed  four 
days,  and  might,  perhaps,  have  been  obliged  to  stay  a  week  had  it 
not  been  for  good  luck  in  finding  a  Bridgewater  man  there  with  a 
vacant  seat  in  his  chaise.  I  there  received  a  certificate  in  the  hand 
writing  of  A.  Holmes,  Esquire,  and  sprinkled  with  his  snuff  instead 

*  Mr.  Baylies  had  been  a  member  of  Congress  for  the  years  1809,  1812,  and  1814 ; 
and  was  re-elected  in  1815,  afterward  in  i8i6-'i7,  and  again  in 


PRELIM^7ARY  ADMISSION.  ^3 

of  sand,  for  which  I  paid  six  dollars,  according  to  the  tenor  and  sub 
stance  following : 

"  These  certify  that  William  C.  Bryant,  a  student  at  law  in  brother 
r.iylies's  office,  has  been  examined  by  us,  and  we  do  agree  that  he  be 
recommended  to  be  admitted  an  attorney  at  August  Term,  1815,  he 
continuing  his  studies  regularly  all  that  time. 

Br.  JOSHUA  THOMAS,        )     Committee  of  the  Bar  for 
Impress.  ABM.  HOLMES.    \      Examining  Candidates. 
August  9,  1814. 

"  By  the  bye,  I  ought  to  have  mentioned,  and  perhaps  I  did  men 
tion  in  my  last,  that  there  is  a  bar  rule  providing  that  all  students  at 
law  who  have  not  had  the  happiness  and  honor  of  an  academic  de 
gree  should  be  examined  by  a  committee  of  three,  any  two  of  whom 
will  do,  to  decide  how  long  such  person  shall  study.  Now,  you  will 
see,  the  time  fixed  to  admit  me  to  the  bar  is  before  I  emerge  from  my 
minority.  Whether  this  will  be  any  objection  or  not  I  cannot  tell — I 
have  not  been  able  to  find  any  law  which  makes  it  so,  and  the  exam 
iners  inquired  my  age  at  the  time ;  but,  if  there  should  be  any  im 
propriety  in  being  admitted  next  August,  nothing  is  more  easy,  you 
know,  than  to  postpone  it  till  November. 

"  When  I  was  at  Plymouth  I  went  on  to  the  Gurnet.  There  are 
rather  more  than  sixty  men  at  the  place,  all  stowed  into  about  a 
dozen  or  fifteen  small  tents.  Their  accommodations  are  not  very 
comfortable.  There  are  seven  guns  in  the  fort — two  twelves,  two 
twenty-fours,  and  three  eighteen  pounders. 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  W.  C.  B." 

To  an  old  office  companion  at  Mr.  Howe's,  Elisha  Hub- 
bard,  who  had  removed  to  Northampton,  he  writes  two  weeks 
later  as  follows : 

"  I  have  waited  for  you  to  write  to  me  long  enough  to  weary  the 
patience  of  the  man  of  Uz,  and  I  assure  you  I  should  really  have  been 
angry  at  your  conduct,  had  I  not  suspected  that  the  fascinations  of 
some  fair  Northampton  belle  might  have  caused  you  to  forget  the  ex 
istence  of  your  old  friends.  If  you  will  honestly  own  this  to  be  the 
fact,  I  will  lay  aside  my  resentment,  for  you  know  I  am  partial  to 
those  errors  which  owe  their  origin  to  the  tender  passion.  My  situa- 


I24  THE  LAW  STUDENT. 

\ 

tion  here  is  perfectly  agreeable  :  books  enough  ;  a  convenient  office, 
and  for  their  owner,  a  good  lawyer  and  an  amiable  man.  The  testi 
mony  which  all  classes  bear  to  the  uprightness  of  Mr.  Baylies's  charac 
ter  is  truly  wonderful.  Everybody,  even  those  who  entertain  the 
greatest  dislike  to  lawyers  in  general,  concur  in  ascribing  to  him  the 
merit  of  honesty.  You,  who  know  how  much  calumny  is  heaped 
upon  the  members  of  our  profession,  even  the  most  uncorrupt,  can 
estimate  the  strict  and  scrupulous  integrity  necessary  to  acquire  this 
reputation.  Mr.  Baylies  is  a  man  of  no  ostentation  ;  he  has  that 
about  him  which  was  formerly  diffidence,  but  is  now  refined  and 
softened  into  modesty.  As  for  old  Worthington,  not  the  wealth  of 
the  Indies  could  tempt  me  back  to  my  former  situation.  I  am  here 
very  much  in  my  old  way,  very  lazy,  but  something  different  in  being 
very  contented. 

"W.  C.  B." 


A  few  weeks  later  again,  Sept.  iQth,  writing  to  another  of 
his  Worthington  fellow  -  students,  Mr.  George  Downes,  he 
touches  certain  topics  in  a  way  which  shows  not  only  how  far 
he  had  escaped  from  his  late  morbid  communings  with  death, 
but  that  his  studies  did  not  withhold  him  from  the  usual  pleas 
ures  of  young  men  : 

"  I  am  certainly  as  well  contented  with  this  place  as  I  could  be 
with  any,  and  I  would  not  exchange  it  for  Worthington  if  the  wealth 
of  the  Indies  were  thrown  into  that  side  of  the  balance  ;  yet  I  must 
acknowledge  that,  when  I  think  of  Ward's  store,  and  Mills's  tavern, 
and  Taylor's  grogshop,  and  Sears's,  and  Daniels's,  and  Briggs's,  &c., 
&c.,  &c.,  such  cool,  comfortable  lounging-places,  it  makes  me  rather 
melancholy,  for  there  is  not  a  tavern  in  this  parish.  A  store  with  a 
hall,  however,  close  to  my  door,  supplies  the  place  of  one.  We  had 
a  ball  there  last  Friday,  and  it  rained  furiously.  We  had  been  put 
ting  it  off  for  about  a  week,  from  day  to  day,  on  account  of  the  wet 
weather,  and  at  last,  despairing  of  ever  having  a  clear  sky,  we  got  to 
gether  in  a  most  tremendous  thunder-storm,  and  a  very  good  scrape 
we  had  of  it.  The  next  morning  we  set  out,  six  couples  of  us,  to  go 
to  a  great  pond  in  Middleborough,  about  thirteen  miles  from  this 
place,  on  a  sailing  party,  which  we  had  likewise  been  procrastinating 
a  number  of  days  on  account  of  the  weather.  When  we  began  our 


YOUTHFUL  FROLICS. 


12 


journey  there  was  every  sign  of  rain;  the  clouds  were  thick  and 
dark,  and  there  was  a  devil  of  a  mist ;  but  the  sun  came  out  about 
ten  o'clock,  and  we  had  one  of  the  most  delightful  days  I  ever  saw. 
Mine  host  and  hostess  were  very  accommodating ;  they  gave  us  some 
fine  grapes  and  peaches,  a  good  dinner,  and  tolerable  wine.  We  had 
a  charming  sail  on  the  lake,  and  our  ladies  were  wonderfully  sociable 
and  alert,  considering  they  were  up  till  three  o'clock  the  night  be 
fore.  At  about  eight  in  the  evening  we  got  back  safe  to  the  west  par 
ish  of  Bridgewater.  .  .  .  Yesterday  we  received  orders  from  the 
Major  General  of  this  division  to  detach  eight  hundred  and  ninety 
men  from  this  brigade  to  march  to  the  defence  of  Plymouth.  This 
takes  all  the  militia  from  this  quarter.  They  marched  this  morning. 
The  streets  were  full  of  them  a  little  while  ago,  but  now  the  place  is 
as  solitary  and  silent  as  a  desert." 

September  26th,  he  gave  Mr.  Baylies  a  more  particular  ac 
count  of  the  military  movements,  and  of  the  popular  disposi 
tion  in  regard  to  them. 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  We  are  in  rather  an  unpleasant  pickle  in  this  part 
of  the  country,  General  Goodwin  having  read  General  Cochran's  let 
ter,  in  which  he  communicated  to  Mr.  Monroe  his  intention  of  de 
stroying  all  the  towns  on  the  sea-coast,  posted  off  to  Governor  Strong, 
and,  after  giving  him  some  idea  of  the  dangers  which  threatened  the 
goodly  and  important  town  of  Plymouth,  got  permission  to  call  out  as 
many  men  from  his  division  to  the  defence  of  the  peace  as  he  thought 
proper.  A  detachment  was  accordingly  made  of  eight  hundred  men 
from  this  brigade.  We  received  the  orders  last  Sunday  week,  and  the 
next  Tuesday  our  people  marched.  Thirty  are  called  from  Captain 
Lathrop's  company,  besides  two  sergeants,  two  corporals,  two  drum 
mers,  and  St.  Leonard — thirty-seven  from  Captain  Edson's — besides  a 
like  number  of  sergeants,  etc.,  and  a  captain  and  ensign.  This  draft 
takes  all  the  militia  from  this  parish  without  being  full — the  compa 
nies  being  very  small — some  having  got  certificates  and  some  being 
sick  and  excused  by  the  captain.  Our  streets  are  now  very  solitary — 
the  place  is  a  perfect  desert ;  you  would  hardly  recognize  the  country 
around  your  office  if  you  were  to  see  it;  Briggs  and  Ben  Howard  and 
Charles  and  Allen  are  gone — Eaton  only  is  left  to  sell  '  a  little  some- 


126  THE  LAW  STUDENT. 

thing  to  drink.'  It  is  understood  to  be  the  intention  of  said  Goodwin 
to  keep  these  men  at  Plymouth  till  winter  as  a  scarecrow  to  the  Brit 
ish  fleet.  The  people  here  grumble  heartily  at  the  affair,  and  seem 
angry  that  the  General  should  think  the  safety  of  his  pitiful  village  of 
more  consequence  than  their  corn  and  potatoes.  Those,  however, 
who  stay  at  home  are  the  most  discontented.  The  soldiers  are  said 
to  enjoy  themselves  wonderfully,  and  some  of  them  swear  that  they 
would  not  come  back  if  they  could  have  an  opportunity.  They  have 
been  attentively  supplied  with  every  comfort  and  convenience  which 
their  situation  could  admit  of;  they  are  established  at  the  rope-walks, 
We  are  very  anxious  here  to  hear  from  Congress ;  our  paper  of  to-day, 
in  which  we  expected  the  President's  message,  failed.  I  believe  every 
body  knows  what  kind  of  talk  to  expect  from  the  mouth  of  his  Imbe 
cility,*  if  he  may  be  so  titled ;  but  the  eyes  of  an  attentive  nation  are 
fixed  upon  their  Legislature  to  see  what  steps  they  will  take  upon  this 
momentous  occasion.  How  does  the  Southern  autumn  agree  with  your 
constitution  ?  I  hope  it  has  not  given  you  the  fever  and  ague  which  we 
who  dwell  on  the  salubrious  sands  of  the  old  colony  dread  so  much." 

In  all  his  correspondence  with  Mr.  Baylies,  the  young  man 
betrays  an  insatiable  curiosity  in  regard  to  the  progress  of 
events.  Newspapers  were  not  so  many  in  those  days,  nor  did 
news  fly  as  quickly  as  now,  and  country  constituents  depended 
very  much  upon  the  letters  of  their  representatives  for  knowl 
edge  of  what  was  going  on.  "  Who  is  this  Dallas,"  Mr.  Bry 
ant  asks,  "  that  has  been  recently  appointed  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury?  is  he  a  native  of  this  country — is  he  competent? 
What  are  the  commissioners  doing  at  Ghent?  Do  you  mean 
to  impose  any  more  taxes?  If  you  do,  I  can  tell  you,  the 
people  will  revolt.  There  is  no  mistaking  their  spirit ;  you 
know  what  it  is ;  the  same  that  animated  '  the  children  of  the 
Hills,'  at  Cummington,  who,  when  twenty-six  men  were  called 
for,  stepped  forward  to  a  man  ! "  "  What  are  the  views  of  the 
Administration,"  he  asks  in  October,  "  and  the  prospects  of  the 
nation  ?  Is  all  probability  of  peace  cut  off  ?  Is  the  war  to  be 

*  His  Imbecility  was  James  Madison. 


INTEREST  IN  PUBLIC  AFFAIRS.  l2-j 

interminable  ?  I  earnestly  wish  that  you  would  tell  me  some 
thing  about  these  things,  not  only  for  my  sake,  but  that  of 
others,  and  you  would  save  me  much  of  such  dialogue  as 
the  following:  'Any  letters  from  Mr.  Baylies  to-day?' — 'Yes.' 
'Well,  what  does  he  write?' — 'That  it  is  very  hot  weather  at 
Washington.'  You  may  tell  the  Administration  that,  if  the 
system  of  taxation  proposed  by  the  Committee  of  Ways  and 
Means  goes  into  effect,  the  people  of  the  old  colony  will  not 
like  them  any  better  for  it.  If  Mr.  Madison  wants  to  make  us 
sick  of  his  war,  let  him  lay  upon  our  shoulders  those  '  bur 
dens  '  which  are  so  cheerfully  and  proudly  borne ;  let  him  in 
crease  those  '  taxes '  which  are  paid  with  so  much  '  promptness 
and  alacrity.'  I  cannot  tell  how  mature  the  public  feelings  are 
—but  the  subject  of  a  separation  of  the  States  is  more  boldly 
and  frequently  discussed,  and  the  measures  of  our  State  Legis 
lature  are  received  among  our  party,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  with 
universal  approbation,  while  the  Democrats  regard  them  with 
considerable  alarm.  Many  are  very  boisterous  about  it,  but 
perhaps  they  may  become  calm  by  the  time  the  taxes  are  to  be 
paid." 

Mr.  Baylies  always  replies  with  alacrity  and  patience,  and 
encloses  copies  of  "  his  Imbecility's"  messages.  In  one  in 
stance  he  wrote  three  close  pages  in  explanation  of  the  pro 
ceedings  at  Ghent,  and  of  his  opinions  as  to  the  proper  terms 
of  peace.  He  seemed  to  regard  his  young  student  as  a  repre 
sentative  of  the  general  community,  and  furnished  him  with 
full  and  explicit  accounts  of  whatever  was  done  or  said  at  the 
seat  of  government. 

Only  five  days  later  than  the  date  of  the  last  letter  (Octo 
ber  loth)  Mr.  Bryant  is  completely  possessed  by  the  military 
fever,  and  writes  his  father  a  long  and  earnest  letter,  showing 
why  he  ought  to  go  into  the  army,  "  for  the  defence  of  the 
State,"  be  it  remembered,  not  for  the  service  of  the  United 
States.  There  is  an  intestine  foe,  he  alleges,  more  dangerous 
than  Great  Britain,  and  it  may  be  necessary  soon  to  set  up  an 
independent  empire. 


128  THE  LAW  STUDENT. 

"  DEAR  FATHER  :  Mr.  Richards  being  about  to  return  from  a  visit 
to  his  brother  here,  I  have  taken  this  opportunity  to  write  by  him. 
The  militia,  which  were  ordered  to  Plymouth  and  New  Bedford  upon 
permission  obtained  by  General  Goodwin,  after  he  had  made  a  terri 
fying  representation  to  the  Governor  of  the  dangers  which  threatened 
the  former  of  these  places,  are  now  about  to  return.  The  affair  was 
laid  before  the  Legislature,  who  considered  it  inexpedient  that  the 
greater  portion  of  the  laboring  part  of  the  community  should  be  taken 
from  their  farms  to  be  stationed  in  a  petty  village,  which  perhaps  the 
British  would  never  take  any  notice  of.  Two  hundred  are,  however, 
to  be  left  at  New  Bedford.  Our  people  here  grumbled  very  consid 
erably  at  being  thus  destitute  of  hands  to  get  in  their  corn  and  pota 
toes,  but  it  was  observed,  however,  that  those  who  remained  at  home 
were  the  most  discontented.  The  soldiers  enjoyed  themselves  roundly, 
and  were  attentively  supplied  with  every  comfort  and  convenience 
which  their  situation  could  admit  of.  I  escaped  the  draft,  as,  through 
the  forbearance  of  the  captain,  I  had  not  been  once  called  upon  to  do 
military  duty.  I  was,  however,  almost  ashamed  to  stay  at  home  when 
everybody  besides  was  gone,  but  was  not  a  little  comforted  by  the 
reflection — in  which,  I  believe,  most  people  concurred  with  me — that 
the  place  was  in  no  danger,  that  the  detachment  was  entirely  un 
necessary,  and,  therefore,  I  might  as  well  stay  as  go. 

"  Politics  begin  to  effervesce  a  little  here.  People  are  afraid  of  paper 
money — afraid  of  exorbitant  taxation,  etc.,  etc.  Democracy  is,  how 
ever,  as  obstinate,  and  inclined  to  justify  its  leaders,  as  ever.  I  pre 
sume  that  you  in  Hampshire  begin  to  grow  pretty  warm  by  this  time. 
The  fact  is,  there  is  more  party  feeling,  more  of  party  union,  in  your 
part  of  the  country  than  here.  You  are  more  of  a  newspaper  reading 
people,  and  let  the  '  Hampshire  Gazette  *  only  give  the  word,  which, 
by  the  by,  it  copies  from  some  leading  Federal  paper,  and  every  Fed 
eralist  in  the  country  has  his  cue,  everybody  knows  what  to  think. 
Here  the  case  is  different ;  one  takes  the  '  Centinel,'  one  the  *  Mes 
senger,'  and  one  the  *  Boston  Gazette,'  while  by  far  the  greater  part 
take  no  paper  at  all.  The  consequence  is  that  one  is  very  warm, 
another  very  moderate,  and  another  is  in  doubt  how  to  be.  I  go 
upon  the  supposition  that  this  parish  affords  a  fair  specimen  of  the 
habits  and  feelings  of  the  people  in  this  part  of  the  State.  .  .  . 

"  I  have  a  question  for  you  :  Whether  it  would  be  proper  for  me  to 


WANTS    TO  EM.I^T.  12() 

have  anything  to  do  with  the  army  which  is  to  be  raised  by  voluntary 
enlistment  for  the  defence  of  the  State.  Attached  as  you  are  to  your 
native  soil,  to  its  rights  and  safety,  you  could  not,  surely,  be  unwilling 
that  your  son  should  proffer  his  best  exertions,  and  even  his  life,  to 
preserve  them  from  violation.  The  force  now  to  be  organized  may 
not  be  altogether  employed  against  a  foreign  enemy ;  it  may  become 
necessary  to  wield  it  against  an  intestine  foe  in  the  defence  of  dearer 
rights  than  those  which  are  endangered  in  a  contest  with  Great 
Britain.  If  we  create  a  standing  army  of  our  own — if  we  take  into 
our  own  hands  the  public  revenue  (for  these  things  are  contemplated 
in  the  answer  to  the  Governor's  message) — we  so  far  throw  off  our  alle 
giance  to  the  general  government,  we  disclaim  its  control  and  revert 
to  an  independent  empire.  The  posture,  therefore,  which  is  now 
taken  by  the  State  Legislature,  if  followed  up  by  correspondent  meas 
ures,  is  not  without  hazard.  If  we  proceed  in  the  manner  in  which 
we  have  begun,  and  escape  a  civil  war,  it  will  probably  be  because  the 
Administration  is  awed  by  our  strength  from  attempting  our  subjec 
tion.  By  increasing  that  strength,  therefore,  we  shall  lessen  the  prob 
ability  of  bloodshed.  Every  individual  who  helps  forward  the  work 
of  collecting  this  army  takes  the  most  effectual  means  in  his  power  to 
bring  the  present  state  of  things  to  a  happy  conclusion.  A  general 
spirit  of  devotion  to  the  cause  of  the  States,  and  of  attachment  to  the 
measures  into  which  we  have  been  driven  by  the  weakness  and  wick 
edness  of  our  rulers,  ought  to  pervade  all  ranks  of  men  ;  no  one  should 
be  induced  to  shrink  from  the  contest  on  account  of  petty  personal 
sacrifices.  That  even  these  would  not  be  made,  in  case  I  should  enter 
into  the  service,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  from  the  following  reasons : 
i st.  If  I  enter  upon  my  profession  next  year,  I  shall  come  into  the 
world  raw  and  rustic  to  a  degree  uncommon  even  in  most  persons  of 
my  age  and  situation — in  all  the  greenness  of  a  secluded  education, 
without  that  respect  which  greater  maturity  of  years  and  more  ac 
quaintance  with  the  world  would  give  me.  2d.  As  I  understand  the 
matter,  the  objection  which  is  made  to  my  spending  five  years  in  the 
study  of  the  law  is  not  upon  the  ground  that  I  shall  not  come  soon 
enough  into  business,  but  that  the  expenses  attending  my  education 
would  be  greater  than  you  could  meet  without  injuring  the  interest  of 
the  family.  In  this  reason  I  have  always  concurred,  and  this  it  is  that 
has  led  me  to  endeavor  to  shorten  the  term  of  my  studies  as  much  as 
VOL.  i. — 10 


130  THE  LAW  STUDENT. 

possible.  If  I  should  enter  into  the  service  of  the  State,  I  should  pro 
cure  the  means  of  present  support,  and,  perhaps  with  prudence,  might 
enable  myself  to  complete  my  studies  without  further  assistance.  I 
should  then  come  into  the  world,  as  I  said,  with  my  excessive  bash- 
fulness  and  rusticity  rubbed  off  by  a  military  life,  which  polishes  and 
improves  the  manners  more  than  any  other  method  in  the  world.  It 
is  not  probable  that  the  struggle  in  which  we  are  to  be  engaged  will  be 
a  long  one.  The  war  with  Britain  certainly  will  not.  The  people  can 
not  exist  under  it,  and  if  the  government  will  not  make  peace,  Massa 
chusetts  must.  Whether  there  may  be  an  intestine  contest  or  not 
admits  of  doubt ;  and  if  there  should  be,  the  entire  hopelessness  of 
the  Southern  States  succeeding  against  us  will  probably  terminate  it 
after  the  first  paroxysm  of  anger  and  malignity  is  over.  If  these  ideas 
should  meet  your  approbation,  you  will  make  some  interest  for  me  at 
headquarters.  The  army,  you  will  perceive,  is  to  be  officered  by  the 
Governor." 

The  same  month,  day  not  given,  after  detailing  the  state  of 
several  cases  at  law,  he  tells  Mr.  Baylies : 

"You  inquire  what  our  people  think  of  the  new  system  of  taxa 
tion.  I  believe  that  I  mentioned  something  upon  the  subject  in  my 
last,  and  I  can  now  still  more  confidently  say  that,  if  the  taxes  pro 
posed  are  made,  they  will  be,  in  my  opinion,  the  cause  of  violent  and 
unstifled  discontent.  Perhaps  we  shall  not  agree  to  pay  them.  This 
will,  however,  depend  upon  the  determinations  of  our  State  Legislature, 
of  which  you  have  all  the  means  of  forming  an  opinion  which  we  have 
here.  I  regret  that  I  cannot  give  you  a  more  particular  account  of 
the  state  of  public  feeling  in  these  parts,  but,  as  far  as  I  am  acquainted 
with  it,  there  seems  to  be  a  deep  presentiment  of  an  approaching  dis 
solution  of  the  Union." 

Again,  not  long  after,  he  says : 

"  We  hear  that  you  legislators  have  got  through  with  the  conscrip 
tion  bill,  and  it  is  presented  to  the  President  to  receive  his  sanction. 
God  forgive  the  poor  perjured  wretch  if  he  dares  sign  it.  If  the 
people  of  New  England  acquiesce  in  this  law,  I  will  forswear  feder 
alism  forever." 


'.ITICAL   CHANGES.  !3, 

\V  -  in  these  letters,  which,  1  have  no  doubt,  represent  the 
spirit  of  the  times  much  better  than  more  important  public  doc 
uments,  what  striking  mutations  party  opinions  may  undergo 
in  a  very  little  while.  From  the  origin  of  the  government,  the 
Republicans  had  professed  themselves  the  opponents  of  Nation 
alism  or  Centralism,  and  the  particular  defenders  of  the  rights, 
or,  as  it  was  called,  the  Sovereignty  of  the  States.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  Federalists,  as  their  name  imports,  were  sticklers 
for  central  supremacy  and  local  subordination.  Nearly  all  the 
earlier  controversies  of  politics  turned  upon  this  point  of  the 
precise  limitations  to  be  affixed,  respectively,  to  the  general  and 
the  particular  governments.  But  the  attitude  of  parties  was 
now  changed,  if  not  completely  reversed.  The  Republicans, 
who  were  in  possession  of  power,  did  not  scruple  in  stretch 
ing  the  exercise  of  it  to  the  utmost  bounds,  while  the  Federal 
ists  began  to  construe  the  organic  law  with  literal  strictness, 
questioning  every  aggression,  and  calling  upon  the  States  to 
interpose  a  check  to  the  strides  of  Federal  authority.  The 
Legislatures  of  Massachusetts  and  other  Eastern  States  not 
only  denounced  the  war  as  "  impolitic,  impracticable,  and  un 
just,"  and  demanded  peace  on  almost  any  terms,  but  they  con 
certed  measures  for  the  protection  of  their  own  citizens  from 
"  the  violence  and  tyranny  of  the  United  States."  They  pro 
posed  an  amendment  to  the  Federal  Constitution  even,  in  the 
interests  of  the  local  jurisdictions.  Governor  Strong,  of  Massa 
chusetts,  supported  by  the  courts,  and  by  the  executives  of  other 
States,  refused  to  place  the  State  militia  under  the  command 
of  officers  of  the  Federal  army.  In  several  of  the  States,  in 
deed,  delegates  were  appointed  to  assemble  in  convention  at 
Hartford,*  to  consider  existing  grievances  and  devise  reme 
dies.  This  body,  in  its  public  acts  and  enunciations,  was  re 
strained  and  prudent,  taking  great  care  not  to  advise  a  rupture 
with  the  Union  as  yet ;  but  the  constituents  it  represented  were 
more  outspoken. 

*  The  convention  met  in  Hartford  on  the  I5th  of  December,  1814. 


1 32  THE  LAW  STUDENT. 

Unfortunately  for  his  military  and  political  projects,  Mr. 
Bryant  was  taken  ill  in  November,  and  compelled  to  return  to 
Cummington.  What  his  disease  was  is  not  told  ;  but  probably 
some  incipient  form  of  the  pulmonary  malady  that  threatened 
him  more  seriously  a  few  years  later.*  His  recovery  he  com 
municates  to  Mr.  Baylies  in  a  note,  dated  December,  which 
has,  perhaps,  a  trifle  of  literary  interest : 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  got  back  to  Bridgewater  safe  and  sound,  and 
in  much  better  trim  than  when  I  went  from  it.  All  the  people  in  this 

quarter  are  well  and  kicking,  except  old  Mrs. ,  who  was  in  the 

ground  before  I  returned.  But  here  is  no  snow.  Alt  the  indication 
of  winter  is  very  cold  weather.  But  from  Boston  to  Albany  there  is 
excellent  sleighing,  and  on  the  hills  of  Hampshire  the  best  I  ever 
knew.  I  paid  a  visit  to  my  old  instructor,  Mr.  Howe.  I  found  him 
among  his  sheep,  en  deshabille.\  Business,  he  tells  me,  is  languishing. 

*  It  was  about  the  time  of  this  illness  that  Mr.  Bryant  seems  to  have  received 
more  natural  views  of  the  great  enemy,  Death,  than  those  expressed  on  a  former 
page,  if  we  may  judge  by  this  little  poem  : 

"  Oh,  thou  whom  the  world  dreadeth  !     Art  thou  nigh 

To  thy  pale  kingdom,  Death  !  to  summon  me? 
While  life's  scarce  tasted  cup  yet  charms  my  eye, 
And  yet  my  youthful  blood  is  dancing  free, 
And  fair  in  prospect  smiles  futurity. 
Go,  to  the  crazed  with  care  thy  quiet  bring ; 
Go  to  the  galley-slave  who  pines  for  thee, 
Go  to  the  wretch  whom  throes  of  torture  wring, 
And  they  will  bless  thy  hand,  that  plucks  the  fiery  sting. 

"  I  from  thine  icy  touch  with  horror  shrink, 

That  leads  me  to  the  place  where  all  must  lie  ; 

And  bitter  is  my  misery  to  think 

That,  in  the  spring-time  of  my  being,  I 

Must  leave  this  pleasant  land,  and  this  fair  sky  ; 

All  that  has  charmed  me  from  my  feeble  birth  ; 
The  friends  I  love,  and  every  gentle  tie  ; 

All  that  disposed  to  thought,  or  waked  to  mirth  ; 

And  lay  me  darkly  down,  and  mix  with  the  dull  earth." 
BRIDGEWATER,  July,  1815. 

f  Mr.  Howe  had  caught  the  mania  that  prevailed  for  raising  merino  sheep,  and 
devoted  a  good  deal  of  time  to  the  enterprise  ;  not,  however,  with  success. 


BYRON'S  "LARA." 


133 


14 1  met  at  Mr.  Howe's  with  '  Lara,'  a  tale,  which  is  advertised 
on  the  cover  of  the  '  Analectic  Magazine '  as  being  written  by  Lord 
Byron.  It  seems  intended  as  a  sequel  to  the  'Corsair.'  It  pos 
sesses  some  merit,  but  I  think  it  cannot  be  written  by  Lord  Byron. 
The  flow  of  this  poet's  versification  is  admirably  copied,  but  it  seems 
to  me  to  want  his  energy  of  expression,  his  exuberance  of  thought, 
the  peculiar  vein  of  melancholy  which  imparts  its  tinge  to  everything 
lie  writes ;  in  short,  all  the  stronger  features  of  his  genius.  Conrad, 
whose  character  you  used  to  admire,  and  who  makes  his  appearance 
in  this  tale  as  a  Spanish  peer,  under  the  name  of  '  Lara,'  is  degener 
ated  into  a  lurking  assassin,  a  midnight  murderer.  But  perhaps  you 
have  seen  the  poem.  For  my  part,  I  never  heard  of  it  till  I  met  with 
it  at  Mr.  Howe's.  May  it  not  be  the  effort  of  some  American  genius  ?  " 

The  student  had  scarcely  got  to  work  again  when  his 
brother  informed  him  of  the  illness  of  their  father,  in  a  letter, 
which  shows  also  how  the  whole  family  were  saturated  with 
Federalism  and  revolt.  Austin  Bryant  writes  from  Cum- 
mington,  January  25,  1815  : 

"  DEAR  BROTHER  :  Our  father  has  been  very  ill  for  a  month  past ; 
he  was  taken  with  a  fever  which  has  probably  settled  itself  upon  the 
liver.  ...  I  have  heard  nothing  of  your  commission.  People  here 
tell  me  that  you  ought  to  have  applied  to  some  military  character  for 
a  recommendation.  Probably  this  might  have  more  weight  with  the 
Governor.  But  be  this  as  it  may,  I  think  you  ought  to  have  one,  con 
sidering  the  eagerness  with  which  you  have  sought  for  it.  ...  What 
think  you  of  the  proceedings  of  the  convention  ?  *  Our  Federalists 
were  much  disappointed,  saying  that  they  dared  not  adopt  any  ener 
getic  measures,  but  would  go  on  in  the  old  way  of  supplication  till  the 
chains  that  were  preparing  to  bind  them  to  the  earth  were  riveted. 
But  I  trust  in  God  these  things  will  never  be.  There  is  a  redeeming 
spirit  in  New  England  which  will  resist  every  encroachment  upon  its 
liberties  and  stamp  the  oppressor  under  its  feet.  .  .  ." 

Cullen's  reply,  February  5,  1815,  is  worthy  of  note,  not 
only  as  an  exhibition  of  the  popular  feeling,  but  as  an  early 

*  The  Hartford  Convention. 


I34  THE  LAW  STUDENT. 

specimen  of  his  ability  and  judgment  in  handling  public  ques 
tions. 

"DEAR  BROTHER:  Yours  of  the  25th  tilt.  I  received  yesterday. 
I  am  much  afflicted  at  the  news  of  my  father's  sickness.  I  trust  you 
are  doing  everything  in  your  power  to  make  his  situation  as  comfort 
able  as  possible.  .  .  . 

"  The  Governor's  message  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  session 
of  our  Legislature  will  be  a  sufficient  answer  to  those  people  who  as 
cribe  the  failure  of  my  application  for  a  commission  to  the  want  of  a 
recommendation  from  some  military  character.  You  inform  me  that 
your  federalists  are  much  disappointed  at  the  proceedings  of  our  con 
vention.  This  is  not  much  to  be  wondered  at,  considering  the  gen 
eral  character  and  feelings  of  the  citizens  of  Hampshire.  They  are 
impatient  of  oppression,  and  prepared  to  resist  the  least  encroach 
ment  upon  their  rights.  But  what  do  they  want  done  ?  Shall  we  at 
tempt  by  force  what  we  may  perhaps  obtain  peaceably  ?  The  plan 
proposed  by  the  convention,  if  it  should  meet  with  success,  certainly 
appears  competent  to  secure  the  interest  of  the  Eastern  States  at  the 
same  time  that  it  preserves  the  Union.  If  it  should  fail,  it  will  not  be 
our  fault  nor  that  of  our  convention.  In  that  event  we  might  resort 
to  the  first  principles  of  things — the  rights  of  mankind — the  original, 
uncombined  element  of  liberty — but,  in  the  mean  time,  it  appears  to 
my  judgment  proper  to  make  use  of  all  the  means  for  our  relief  which 
the  constitution  allows.  For  this  purpose  our  delegates  were  chosen 
— this  was  the  tenor  of  their  instructions;  all  that  the  constitution 
would  permit  they  have  done,  and  they  could  not  have  done  more 
without  transgressing  the  commands  of  the  people  in  whose  service 
they  were  employed.  They  have  publicly  proclaimed  the  terms  on 
which  depends  the  continuance  of  the  Union ;  they  have  solemnly 
demanded  of  the  national  government  that  the  rights  taken  from  them 
should  be  restored,  and  barriers  erected  against  future  abuses  of  au 
thority.  Now,  if  these  things  could  be  effected  by  a  peaceable  com 
promise,  would  it  not  be  better  than  to  resort  to  sudden  violence  ? 
We  should  then  be  in  possession  of  all  the  advantages  which  could  be 
derived  from  a  separation,  without  hazarding  any  of  its  dangers. 
Even  if  it  were  certain  that  this  plan  will  fail,  yet  perhaps  it  would  be 
necessary  that  we  should  adopt  it  to  hold  up  as  our  justification  to  the 


THE  HARTFORD  CONVENTION. 


'35 


world  as  we  go  along — to  show  that  we  act,  not  from  factious  motives 
or  from  a  temporary  burst  of  popular  turbulence — to  unite  the  wishes 
of  all  honest  men  in  favor  of  our  cause,  and  take  from  the  mouths  of 
our  enemies  all  occasion  of  contumely.  And  this  effect  is,  in  a  great 
measure,  produced.  Our  southern  friends  (and  Mr.  Baylies  gives  me 
a  very  good  opportunity  of  inspecting  the  southern  papers)  can  scarce 
ly  find  terms  to  express  their  approbation  of  the  proceedings  of  our 
convention,  while  the  ingenuity  of  Democracy  is  vainly  exercised  to 
find  some  plausible  occasion  to  revile  them.  I  conceive  that  the  plan 
of  conduct  which  they  have  recommended  will  make  more  proselytes 
and  acquire  more  respect  to  the  Federal  party  than  anything  that  has 
been  done  for  these  ten  years.  It  will  strongly  impress  our  adver 
saries  with  the  idea  of  that  dignified  and  temperate  firmness  which 
steadily  advances  to  its  object ;  and  it  is  not  altogether  impossible 
that  it  may  alarm  them  into  compliance.  If  not,  next  June  will  be 
the  season  for  further  deliberations.  It  will  be  time  enough  to  tell 
the  world  that  the  original  compact  between  the  States  is  dissolved. 
But,  in  my  opinion,  you  people  of  Hampshire  expected  too  much  ;  you 
thought  that  the  Eastern  States  were  in  a  moment,  and  by  a  single 
effort,  to  be  restored  to  peace,  liberty,  and  independence.  How,  you 
did  not  know,  but  the  convention  were  to  devise  the  means.  But  the 
delegates  were  no  necromancers ;  they  were  mere  men  like  ourselves. 
They  could  not  draw  rain  from  the  clouds  nor  call  ghosts  from  the 
ground ;  evils  of  the  magnitude  which  we  surfer  were  not  easily  re 
moved,  nor  were  they  to  be  approached  by  rash  hands.  They  have 
conducted  themselves  like  men  aware  of  the  high  responsibility  which 
rested  upon  them.  Such  are  my  ideas  upon  the  subject,  though  I 
confess  they  are  changed  from  what  they  were  when  I  first  saw  th'e 
report  of  our  delegates.  I  am,  however,  far  from  censuring  or  even 
wishing  to  diminish  the  high  spirits  and  quick  sensibility  to  oppres 
sion  that  prevails  in  your  county.  It  is  necessary  to  counterbalance 
the  sluggishness  of  our  towns  on  the  shore. 

"  The  reasons  in  favor  of  the  conduct  of  our  convention  may, 
therefore,  be  reduced  to  the  following:  i.  Because  their  instructions 
limited  their  deliberations  to  constitutional  measures.  2.  Even  if  their 
authority  had  been  unlimited,  yet  it  were  better  to  exhaust  the  cata 
logue  of  peaceable  and  constitutional  expedients  before  we  proceed 
to  violence,  especially  as  the  plan  now  recommended  has  never  been 


136  THE  LAW  STUDENT. 

tried ;  and  it  is  calculated  to  bring  the  parties  to  a  certain  and  speedy 
issue  upon  the  great  points  of  dispute.  3.  Because  the  plan  now  rec 
ommended  bids  fair  to  be  a  popular  one,  and  to  overcome  by  its  mod 
eration  that  strenuous  opposition  to  our  wishes  which  a  more  violent 
one  would  be  likely  to  encounter.  4.  Because  it  is  necessary  to  make 
one  lasting  and  distinct  expression  of  the  general  will  of  the  Eastern 
States,  to  give  them  an  opportunity  of  granting  our  demands  in  pref 
erence  to  risking  a  separation  before  we  appeal  to  those  immutable 
principles  of  right  and  liberty  given  by  God  with  his  own  divine  image 
to  man.  Yours  affectionately, 

"CULLEN." 

The  application  for  a  military  appointment  did  not  fail  al 
together;  for,  the  next  July  (25,  1816),  a  commission  as  adju 
tant  in  the  Massachusetts  militia  was  sent  to  Mr.  Bryant ; 
but,  after  holding  it  for  less  than  a  year,  he  returned  it  to  the 
hands  of  the  adjutant-general  (February  8,  1817).  Before  he 
received  this  right  to  buckle  on  his  sword,  the  negotiations  for 
peace,  which  had  been  going  on  at  Ghent,  were  satisfactorily 
terminated.  While  the  ink  was  still  wet  upon  the  paper  ad 
dressed  to  his  brother  by  our  young  and  somewhat  belliger 
ent  publicist,  the  result  was  announced  to  Congress,  and  pro 
claimed  throughout  the  country  (February  17,  1815).  It  was 
hailed  with  rejoicing  everywhere ;  the  Federalists  flung  up 
their  caps  because  the  fighting  was  over,  though  they  still 
grumbled  that  not  a  single  object  for  which  the  war  was  un 
dertaken  had  been  obtained,  and  the  Republicans  because  the 
victory  of  Jackson  at  New  Orleans,  January  8th,  enabled  them 
to  keep  their  reverses  out  of  sight  and  to  retire  amid  a  blaze 
of  glory. 

In  a  letter,  dated  March  19,  1815,  to  Judge  Howe,  Mr.  Bry 
ant  refers  to  the  subject : 

"  I  reciprocate  most  cordially  your  congratulations  on  the  return 
of  peace.  This  event,  so  much  desired  and  so  little  expected,  seems 
to  have  excited  in  every  part  of  the  Union  a  delirium  of  transport 
which  has  not  even  yet  subsided.  Yet,  whatever  may  be  our  feelings 
on  this  occasion,  I  trust  that  we  shall  not  feel  much  gratitude  to  the 


PEACE  DECLARED.  ^7 

man  who  has  so  long  and  so  successfully  been  employed  in  wasting 
the  strength  and  debasing  the  character  of  the  nation,  merely  because 
he  has  not  suffered  its  very  life-blood  to  flow  from  the  arteries  of  the 
Union ;  still  less,  when  it  is  recollected  that  he  was  compelled  to  this 
present  treaty  only  by  the  necessity  of  affairs.  .  .  . 

41  But  God  forbid  that  the  Federalists  should  relax  their  exertions 
to  drag  back  into  that  obscurity  from  which  they  ought  never  to  have 
emerged  the  men  who  have  brought  upon  the  country  so  much  dis 
tress  and  disgrace.  I  much  fear,  however,  that  this  accommodation 
will  incline  the  Federal  party  to  indolence,  and  that,  in  the  conva 
lescent  prosperity  of  the  country,  they  will  forget  the  mighty  influence 
which  has  brought  us  so  near  to  our  ruin ;  and  now,  wearied  with  its 
only  efforts,  perhaps,  pauses  for  some  more  favorable  opportunity  to 
destroy  us. 

"  If  the  peace  has  blown  my  military  projects  to  the  moon,  it  per 
haps  may  be  a  question  whether  it  has  not  a  little  shattered  your 
Merino  speculations.  I  say  a  question,  because  I  do  not  think  it  yet 
ascertained  whether  we  might  compete  successfully  with  other  nations 
in  the  exportation  of  wool ;  but  our  prospects  in  the  law  are,  I  think, 
rather  brightened."  * 

*  He  expressed  the  same  views  of  the  war  in  an  ode  written  for  the  Howard  Society 
of  Boston,  of  which  I  will  cite  a  specimen : 

"  Ah,  taught  by  many  a  woe  and  fear, 

We  welcome  thy  returning  wing ; 
And  Earth,  O  Peace  !  is  glad  to  hear 

Thy  name  among  her  echoes  ring. 

And  Winter  looks  a  lovelier  Spring, 
And  hoarsely  though  his  tempest  roars, 

The  gale  that  drives  our  sleet  shall  bring 
The  world's  large  commerce  to  our  shores. 

"  My  country,  pierced  with  many  a  wound  ! 

Thy  pulse  with  slow  recovery  beats. 
War  flies  our  shores,  but  all  around 

The  eye  his  bloody  footprint  meets, 

As  when  the  dewy  morning  greets, 
Serene  in  smiles  and  rosy  light, 

Some  prostrate  city  through  whose  streets 
The  earthquake  past  at  dead  of  night." 


1 38  THE  LAW  STUDENT. 

The  rejoicings  over  the  return  of  peace  were  somewhat 
dashed,  among  those  to  whom  the  name  of  Napoleon  was  still 
a  terror,  by  the  news  of  his  escape  from  Elba.  Mr.  Bryant, 
writing  to  his  father,  May  24th,  says : 

"  I  presume  that  you  in  Cummington,  as  well  as  we  in  Bridge- 
water,  were  a  little  surprised  that  Bonaparte  should  so  suddenly  re 
sume  the  sceptre  of  France.  The  exile  of  Elba  has  outwitted  all 
Europe.  We,  I  think,  may  dread,  in  common  with  other  nations,  the 
consequences  of  this  event.  They,  by  due  concert  and  proper  meas 
ures,  may,  perhaps,  ensure  their  own  safety,  even  if  they  should  not 
have  the  power  or  inclination  to  pull  him  again  from  the  throne ;  we 
have  no  security  against  his  artifices  and  emissaries  but  in  the  virtue 
of  the  people,  which,  I  fear,  is  not  wonderfully  great." 

Nevertheless,  his  apprehensions  were  not  so  great  as  to 
prevent  him  from  applying  himself  for  the  rest  of  the  sum 
mer  to  diligent  preparations  for  his  examination  in  August,  to 
which  he  looked  forward  with  anxiety.  Writing  to  his  friend 
Downes,  in  June,  he  says : 

"  The  nearer  I  approach  to  the  conclusion  of  my  studies  the  more 
I  am  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  industry.  You,  my  friend,  were 
born  under  a  more  fortunate  star  than  I.  You  have  everything  in 
your  favor  in  entering  upon  the  practice  of  law,  accommodating  your 
conversation  to  every  sort  of  people,  and  rendering  yourself  agreeable 
to  all.  The  maturity  of  your  manners  will  add  much  to  the  respect 
you  will  receive  upon  entering  into  life,  and  the  natural  placidity  of 
yo"ur  temper  will  enable  you  to  contemn  the  little  rubs  which  will,  of 
course,  attend  the  young  practitioner.  But  I  lay  claim  to  nothing 
of  all  these,  and  the  day  when  I  shall  set  up  my  gingerbread-board  is 
to  me  a  day  of  fearful  expectation.  The  nearer  I  approach  to  it  the 
more  I  dread  it." 

Downes  tells  him  in  return  that  he  must  not  give  way  to 
despondency,  and  thereby  do  injustice  both  to  his  application 
and  to  his  talents.  " If  I  were  conscious,"  he  says,  "of  possess 
ing  those  qualities  in  the  same  degree,  I  would  whistle  all  fears 
of  the  future  down  the  wind."  His  distrust  did  not  arise  from 


LICENSED    TO  PRACTICE. 

any  want  of  knowledge  of  the  law — on  which  both  Mr.  Howe 
and  Mr.  Baylies  took  occasion  to  compliment  him — but  from 
conscious  defects  as  a  speaker.  In  July,  Mr.  Howe  wrote  him 
a  long  letter  on  the  subject,  instructing  him  how  the  art  of 
speaking  is  to  be  acquired  and  improved,  but  predicting  for 
him  "  the  very  highest  rank  in  the  fraternity  of  which  he  is 
soon  to  become  a  member."  To  this  the  student  replies, 
August  8th,  with  not  a  little  grace  of  allusion,  as  well  as  good 
sense : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  Your  remarks  upon  public  speaking  I  read  with 
the  more  interest  as  they  come  from  one  who  has  practiced  that  art 
with  such  distinguished  success.  Yet  I  must  acknowledge  that  their 
effect  upon  me  was  considerably  lessened  by  the  reflection  that  mere 
industry  could  never  have  supplied  that  eloquence.  You  must  be 
content,  sir,  not  to  claim  the  whole  merit  of  producing  it  to  yourself. 
You  must  ascribe  much  of  it  to  the  bounty  of  Nature,  assisted,  I  have 
no  doubt,  by  art,  but  still  entitled  to  the  credit  of  furnishing  the  raw 
material  which  was  afterward  to  be  worked  up  into  such  polish  and 
eloquence.  I  never  could  believe  that  the  maxim,  orator  Jit,  holds 
good  in  its  full  extent.  It  may  be  true  that  any  man  of  common 
sense  and  common  utterance  may,  by  practice  and  diligent  endeavor, 
be  brought  to  talk  decently  well  upon  some  occasions,  but  what  we 
currently  term  eloquence^  according  to  my  weak  judgment,  depends  as 
much  upon  the  original  constitution  of  the  mind  as  any  other  faculty 
whatever.  This,  heowver,  is  not  the  place  for  a  disquisition  of  this  kind. 

"  Next  week,  by  the  leave  of  Providence  and  the  Plymouth  bar,  I 
become  a  limb  of  the  law.  You  inquire  in  what  part  of  the  world  I 
intend  to  take  up  my  abode.  I  have  formed  a  thousand  projects ;  I 
have  even  dreamed  of  the  West  Indies.  After  all,  it  may  be  left  to 
mere  chance  to  determine.  I  hope  soon  to  see  you,  and  have  the 
benefit  of  your  advice  upon  this  subject.  My  best  remembrances  to 
all  who  have  not  forgotten  me.  Believe  me,  sir,  with  the  highest  es 
teem  and  respect,  Yours,  etc., 

"W.  C.  BRYANT." 

On  the  1 5th  of  August  he  left  Bridgewatcr,  with  his  creden 
tials  as  an  attorney  of  the  Common  Pleas  in  his  pocket. 


CHAPTER  EIGHTH. 

THE  YOUNG   LAWYER. 
A.  D.    1816-1819. 

IT  is  worthy  of  note  that  the  same  year  in  which  Mr.  Bryant 
attained  his  majority  and  was  admitted  to  the  bar  he  adopted 
the  poetic  form  he  worked  in  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  During 
the  perturbations  of  what  may  be  called  the  Love  and  Death 
assault,  the  noble  inspirations  that  breathe  through  "  Thanatop- 
sis  "  had  been  for  a  time  forgotten.  In  the  distractions  of  the 
interval,  indeed,  he  seems  to  have  feared  that  the  Muses  had 
deserted  him  altogether,  and  he  implores  their  return.*  As 
soon  as  he  reaches  home  he  begins  to  woo  them  back.  The 
artificial  style  in  which  he  was  trained  is  definitively  aban 
doned  ;  his  boyish  heroics,  those  Tyrtsean  drum-beats,  are 
thrown  aside  ;  his  amatory  sobs  and  sighs  are  suppressed  ; 
his  morbid  colloquies  with  Death  are  outgrown ;  and,  with 
his  Greek  studies  in  memory,  and  the  influences  of  the  new 
British  school  of  Southey,  Coleridge,  and  Wordsworth  grow 
ing  in  force,  he  devotes  himself  to  a  minute  study  of  nature. 
All  his  papers  of  this  period  bear  witness  to  constant  and 
ever-renewed  attempts,  in  different  forms,  to  paint  her  vary 
ing  aspects.  Fragments  and  sketches  mostly,  they  resemble 
those  rough  outlines  which  artists  are  in  the  habit  of  making 
in  preparation  for  larger  canvases.  He  hums  to  himself  of 
flowers,  groves,  streams,  trees,  and  especially  of  winds  which 

*  See  "  I  cannot  Forget  with  what  Fervid  Devotion,"  in  its  original  form.     Poet 
ical  Works,  vol.  i,  notes. 


POETIC  STUDIES.  !4I 

abounded  in  the  region  where  he  lived.*  Among  other 
things,  he  began  an  Indian  story,  after  the  manner  of  Scott's 
highland  poems,  but,  judging  by  the  little  of  it  that  was  exe 
cuted,  the  descriptive  quite  overmastered  the  narrative  parts. 
There  was  a  great  deal  more  of  the  old  Pontoosuc  forest  in  it 

*  Here  are  a  few  specimens  out  of  many  : 

44  The  cloudless  heavens  are  cold  and  bright, 
•  The  shrieking  blast  is  in  the  sky, 

And  all  the  long  autumnal  night 
Whirl  the  dry  leaves  in  eddies  by." 

11  The  sun  is  risen,  but  wan  and  chill 
Wades  through  a  broken  cloud  ; 
And  in  the  woods  that  clothe  the  hill 
November  winds  are  loud." 

41  Hark  !  how  with  frantic  wing  the  blast 

Buffets  the  forest  bare, 
Though  long  ago  its  branches  cast 
The  last  dry  leaflet  there." 

44  Where  Westfield  holds  his  gleaming  course 
Tall  hills  and  narrow  meadows  washing, 
And  all  at  once  with  gentle  force 
Against  a  million  pebbles  dashing." 

"  The  new-risen  sun's  mild  rays  adorn 

The  clouds  beneath  him  rolled  ; 
And  the  first  scarlet  tints  of  morn 

Have  brightened  into  gold. 
With  many  a  note  the  wild  is  cheered  ; 

WTith  many  a  rustling  foot  resounds  ; 
The  squirrel's  merry  chirp  is  heard, 

From  knoll  to  knoll  the  rabbit  bounds ; 
The  woodpecker  amidst  the  shade 

Is  heard  his  drumming  bill  to  ply; 
On  whirring  wings  along  the  glade 

Sweeps  the  brown  partridge  by." 

44  Now,  e'er  she  bids  our  fields  adieu, 

With  fragrant  fingers  June  delights, 
Profuse  with  flowers  of  sunny  hue, 

To  clothe  our  plains  and  grassy  heights. 


I42  THE    YOUNG  LAWYER. 

than  of  the  Indian ;  Nature,  indeed,  was  winning  him  com 
pletely  to  herself,  and  one  of  the  first  fruits  of  her  caresses 
was  the  "  Yellow  Violet,"  written  just  before  leaving  Bridge- 
water,  while  on  a  visit  to  Cummington.*  Another  piece, 
originally  printed  in  the  "North  American"  (1817)  as  "A 
Fragment,"  now  known  as  "  An  Inscription  for  the  Entrance 
to  a  Wood,"  is  due  to  the  same  feeling.  Composed  in  a  noble 
old  forest  that  fronted  his  father's  dwelling-house,  it  is  an  ex 
quisite  picture  of  the  calm  contentment  he  found  in  the  woods. 
Every  object — the  green  leaves,  the  thick  roof,  the  mossy 
rocks,  the  cleft-born  wind-flowers,  the  dancing  insects,  the 
squirrel  with  raised  paws,  the  ponderous  trunks,  black  roots, 

Through  banks  of  gold  the  stream  is  rolled. 

That  half  its  gleaming  waters  hide, 

In  gold  the  mountain  rears  its  pride, 

In  gold  the  sloping  vales  subside, 
The  meadows  wave  in  gold. 

"  On  either  side,  along  the  road, 

Glitters  a  yellow  margin  gay, 
But  where  the  heifer  crops  her  food 

Less  glowing  tints  the  tract  betray, 
And  far  around  as  eye  can  see 

One  blossomed  waste  is  all  the  scene, 

Save  verdant  cornfields  stretched  between, 

Or  groves  or  orchards  rising  green 
In  summer  majesty."  (a) 
*  It  was  not  published  till  some  years  later. 


(a)  Of  this  yellow  flower,  Mr.  J.  H.  Bryant,  in  a  letter  to  me,  gives  these  par 
ticulars  :  "  There  is  a  very  singular  fact  connected  with  the  flowering  plant  which 
produced  the  scene  described  in  the  stanza.  This  was  the  Ranunculus  actis  ; 
common  name,  Crowfoot,  or  Buttercup.  It  first  made  its  appearance  along  the 
road-sides  of  the  hill-towns  (as  they  are  called)  of  Western  Massachusetts  early  in 
this  century.  The  farmers,  looking  upon  it  as  a  pestilent  weed,  attempted  for  a  while 
to  eradicate  it  by  digging  it  up.  But,  in  spite  of  them,  it  increased  with  astonishing 
rapidity,  and  in  a  few  years  took  possession  of  the  soil  of  all  that  region.  It  occupied 
the  road-sides,  the  pastures  and  meadows,  and  every  place  except  the  woodland  and 
the  small  patches  of  ground  planted  with  corn  or  other  grain.  It  was  a  large, 
branching,  and  profusely  flowering  plant,  and  gave  that  part  of  the  country,  when  in 
full  flower,  the  appearance  described  in  the  poem.  What  is  singular  is,  that,  after 
occupying  the  soil  for  some  ten  or  twelve  years,  it  began  to  disappear,  and  in  ten  or 
twelve  years  more  it  was  nearly  extinct.  Now  it  is  rarely  seen.  It  was  a  glorious, 
entrancing  sight,  when,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  the  whole  country  was  clothed  in 
bright  yellow,  the  surface  rolling  and  tossing  in  the  June  breezes." 


ORIGIN  OF  "  THE  WATERFOWL."  I43 

and  sunken  brooks — is  painted  with  the  minutest  fidelity,  and 
vet  with  an  almost  impassioned  sympathy. 

Doubtless  he  would  gladly  have  lingered  in  those  shades ; 
but  the  work  of  life  was  before  him ;  his  bread  was  to  be  won, 
and  he  knew  not  as  yet  where  it  was  to  be  won.  Boston,  the 
great  city  of  business  and  literature,  was  the  goal  of  his  own 
wishes ;  but  how  was  he,  an  utterly  unknown  young  man,  to 
subsist  in  Boston,  while  the  needed  clients  were  finding  out 
his  talents  and  getting  ready  to  entrust  their  interests  to  his 
skill?  His  father  was  in  a  condition  to  help  him  to  valuable 
acquaintances,  but  he  was  not  in  a  condition  to  provide  him 
with  means.  The  good  friends,  Howe  and  Baylies,  too,  were 
able  to  recommend  him  professionally  at  Northampton,  or  New 
Bedford,  or  Troy,  all  of  which  had  been  in  contemplation  ;  but 
the  same  difficulties  existed  in  each  as  in  Boston.  How  was 
he  to  live  until  success  should  come  ?  There  was,  in  fact,  no 
alternative  for  him  but  to  begin  in  some  small  country  village, 
where,  if  the  prospects  of  practice  were  not  very  alluring,  the 
costs  of  subsistence  at  least  might  be  managed.  On  the  oppo 
site  hill-side  from  Cummington,  about  seven  miles  distant,  and 
to  be  seen  from  his  father's  residence,  was  a  hamlet  called 
Plainfield,  whither  he  resolved  to  go  to  try  his  fortune.  He 
had  been  there  at  school,  and  the  family  once  sojourned  there 
for  a  little  while,  so  that  he  would  not  be  an  entire  stranger 
among  its  people.  On  the  I5th  of  December  he  went  over  to 
the  place  to  make  the  necessary  inquiries.  He  says  in  a  letter 
that  he  felt  as  he  walked  up  the  hills  very  forlorn  and  desolate 
indeed,  not  knowing  what  was  to  become  of  him  in  the  big 
world,  which  grew  bigger  as  he  ascended,  and  yet  darker  with 
the  coming  on  of  night.  The  sun  had  already  set,  leaving  be 
hind  it  one  of  those  brilliant  seas  of  chrysolite  and  opal  which 
often  flood  the  New  England  skies ;  and,  while  he  was  looking 
upon  the  rosy  splendor  with  rapt  admiration,  a  solitary  bird 
made  wing  along  the  illuminated  horizon.  He  watched  the 
lone  wanderer  until  it  was  lost  in  the  distance,  asking  himself 
whither  it  had  come  and  to  what  far  home  it  was  flying. 


144  THE    YOUNG  LAWYER. 

When  he  went  to  the  house  where  he  was  to  stop  for  the 
night,  his  mind  was  still  full  of  what  he  had  seen  and  felt,  and 
he  wrote  those  lines,  as  imperishable  as  our  language,  "  The 
Waterfowl."  The  solemn  tone  in  which  they  conclude,  and 
which  by  some  critics  has  been  thought  too  moralizing, 

"  He  who  from  zone  to  zone 

Guides  through  the  boundless  sky  thy  certain  flight, 
In  the  long  way  that  I  must  tread  alone, 
Will  lead  my  steps  aright," 

was  as  much  a  part  of  the  scene  as  the  flight  of  the  bird  itself, 
which  spoke  not  alone  to  his  eye  but  to  his  soul.  To  have 
omitted  that  grand  expression  of  faith  and  hope  in  a  divine 
guidance  would  have  been  to  violate  the  entire  truth  of  the 
vision.* 

What  promise  there  was  for  a  lawyer  in  a  mountain  ham 
let  like  Plainfield,  containing  at  the  most  a  dozen  houses,  and 
those  of  farmers  chiefly,  it  is  difficult  to  see ;  yet  that  Mr. 
Bryant  obtained  some  business  is  shown  by  a  letter  of  Mr. 
Howe  to  Judge  Eli  P.  Ashmun,  of  Northampton,  asking  him 
to  correct  a  mistake  that  his  young  friend  had  fallen  into  as  to 
a  continuance  in  a  case,  and  adding :  "  You  have  heard  me 

*  The  date  of  this  poem,  December,  1815,  is  to  be  remarked  ;  for  our  accomplished 
and  genial  countryman,  Dr.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  in  a  lecture  on  Shelley,  deliv 
ered  in  Boston  in  1853,  after  quoting  that  fine  passage  from  "  Alastor," 

"  A  swan  was  there  ; 

It  rose  as  he  approached,  and,  with  strong  wings 
Scaling  the  upward  sky,  bent  its  bright  course 
High  over  the  immeasurable  main," 

added  that :  "  The  germs  of  two  familiar  and  beautiful  poems,  written  on  this  side  of 
the  water,  might  here  be  found."  One  of  these  poems,  though  it  was  not  mentioned 
byname,  was  understood  to  be  "  The  Waterfowl,"  but  "  The  Waterfowl "  is  of  earlier 
date.  The  preface  to  the  first  edition  of  "Alastor"  is  dated  December  14,  1815; 
and  the  title-page  is  dated  1816,  so  that  the  volume  could  not  have  reached  this  coun 
try  until  some  months  afterward.  Whether  it  found  its  way  at  all  to  so  obscure  a  vil 
lage  as  Plainfield  is  doubtful.  As,  however,  "  The  Waterfowl "  was  not  published  till 
1818,  Dr.  Holmes's  mistake  was  natural  enough,  and  when  his  attention  was  called 
to  it,  he  corrected  it  with  his  usual  grace  and  kindliness. 


REMOVAL    TO  GREAT  BARRINGTON. 


145 


speak  of  him  often  as  a  man  of  great  worth  and  intelligence." 
At  any  rate,  he  remained  in  Plainfield  only  eight  months, 
when  he  received  an  invitation  to  a  partnership  with  a  young 
lawyer  named  George  H.  Ives,  of  Great  Barrington.  Ives,  in 
his  communication,  says  that  he  had  been  able  to  make  from  a 
thousand  to  twelve  hundred  dollars  a  year  by  his  practice,  and 
that  with  good  office  help  the  sum  might  easily  be  increased. 
The  offer  was  accepted  with  alacrity,  and  on  the  3d  of  Octo 
ber,  as  he  writes  in  his  reminiscences  of  Miss  Catharine  M. 
Sedgwick,  Mr.  Bryant  made  the  journey  from  Cummington, 
most  likely  on  foot : 

"  The  woods  were  in  all  the  glory  of  autumn,  and  I  well  remem 
ber,  as  I  passed  through  Stockbridge,  how  much  I  was  struck  by  the 
beauty  of  the  smooth,  green  meadows  on  the  banks  of  that  lovely 
river,  which  winds  near  the  Sedgwick  family  mansion,  the  Housatonic, 
and  whose  gently-flowing  waters  seemed  tinged  with  the  gold  and 
crimson  of  the  trees  that  overhung  them.  I  admired  no  less  the  con 
trast  between  this  soft  scene  and  the  steep,  craggy  hills  that  overlooked 
it,  clothed  with  their  many-colored  forests.  I  had  never  before  seen 
the  southern  part  of  Berkshire,  and  congratulated  myself  on  being  a 
resident  of  so  picturesque  a  region." 

Of  these  changes  of  domicile,  writing  to  an  old  office-mate 
in  Bridgewater,  soon  after  his  arrival  in  Great  Barrington,  he 
says : 

"  After  leaving  Bridgewater,  and  lounging  away  three  months  at 
my  father's,  I  went  to  practice  in  Plainfield,  a  town  adjoining  Cum 
mington.  I  remained  there  eight  months,  but,  not  being  satisfied  with 
my  situation  and  prospects  in  that  place,  I  left  it  for  Great  Barrington, 
a  pleasant  little  village  in  Berkshire  County,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Housatonic,  where  I  am  now  doing  business  with  a  young  man  of  the 
name  of  Ives.  This  town  was  originally  settled  by  the  Dutch  about 
the  year  1730,  and  their  descendants  compose  about  one  tenth  of  the 
present  inhabitants.*  Its  politics  are  highly  Federal.  I  live  about 

*  Many  years  later,  in  an  article  contributed  to  the  "  Landscape  Book "  (G.  P. 
Putnam,  New  York,  1868),  he  indulged  in  some  curious  speculations  as  to  the  Dutch 
VOL.  i. — 11 


1 46  THE    YOUNG  LAWYER. 

five  miles  from  the  line  of  the  State  of  New  York,  and  ten  from  that 
of  Connecticut.  In  Plainfield  I  found  the  people  rather  bigoted  in 
their  notions,  and  almost  wholly  governed  by  the  influence  of  a  few 
individuals,  who  looked  upon  my  coming  among  them  with  a  good 
deal  of  jealousy.  Yet  I  could  have  made  a  living  out  of  them  in  spite 
of  their  teeth,  had  I  chosen  to  stay;  but  Plainfield  was  an  obscure 
place,  and  I  had  little  prospect  of  ever  greatly  enlarging  the  sphere  of 
my  business.  ...  I  came  into  this  place  about  the  ist  of  last  Octo 
ber  ;  since  I  have  been  here  I  have  been  wasted  to  a  shadow  by  a 
complaint  of  the  lungs,- but  am  now  recovered." 

The  "  complaint  of  the  lungs  "  this  letter  refers  to  was  a 
pulmonary  weakness  which  had  already  assailed  his  father 
and  a  younger  sister.  The  more  serious  effects  of  it,  which 
befell  them  a  few  years  later,  he  supposed  he  averted  in  his 
own  case  by  avoiding  the  use  of  tea,  coffee,  and  spices  of  every 
kind,  by  eating  sparingly  of  meat,  and  by  taking  systematic 
exercise,  in  the  open  air  when  he  could,  and  when  he  could 
not,  in  his  rooms. 

In  spite  of  his  ill  health,  Mr.  Bryant  set  to  work  at  his  pro 
fession  with  earnestness,  resolved  to  make  himself  master  of 


origin  of  the  town  which  are  worth  quoting  :  "  I  have  often  reflected,"  he  says,  "  upon 
what  would  have  been  the  consequences  if  the  power  of  England  had  met  the  fate 
that  befell  the  power  of  Holland,  and  if  that  republic  had  flourished  while  England 
fell  into  decay.  The  Dutch  emigration,  of  course,  would  have  filled  the  valley  of  the 
Housatonic.  Bilderdyk  would  have  been  at  this  moment  the  favorite  poet  of  the 
people  on  that  river  ;  the  romances  of  Loosje's  would  have  taken  the  place  of  those 
of  Walter  Scott ;  the  more  devout  would  have  read  the  sermons  of  Van  der  Palm, 
and  the  lovers  of  mirth  would  have  laughed  at  the  jokes  of  Weiland.  So  far  as  con 
cerns  the  fine  arts,  the  dwellings  would  have  been  more  picturesque,  comfortable 
Dutch  homes,  with  low  rooms  and  spacious  stoops,  embowered  in  trees,  instead  of  the 
green,  naked,  and  tasteless  habitations  of  the  Yankees.  The  painters  who  sought 
their  subjects  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  valley  would  have  painted  interiors  after 
the  manner  of  Teniers,  or  elaborate  and  highly  finished  landscapes,  in  which  fidelity 
to  Nature  was  more  regarded  than  selection  of  objects,  after  the  manner  of  Cuyp." 
It  is  to  be  remarked,  as  an  evidence  of  Mr.  Bryant's  retentiveness  of  memory,  that 
this  same  paper  contains  two  fresh  and  vivid  descriptions  of  atmospheric  phenomena, 
thunder-storms  followed  by  strange  plays  of  light,  that  he  had  seen  forty  years  be 
fore. 


THEMIS  OR    THE  MUSE. 


'47 


it,  and  to  achieve  reputation  and  wealth.  Of  course,  at  the 
outset  his  practice  was  trivial — the  collection  of  debts  and  the 
trial  of  small  causes  in  the  justice's  court ;  but  he  was  very 
diligent,  and  it  grew  as  rapidly  as  the  narrow  stage  on  which 
he  worked  permitted.  The  old  debate,  which  has  kept  itself 
alive  among  lawyers  since  the  days  of  Cicero,  as  to  the  com 
patibility  of  literary  studies  with  professional  success,  was  con 
stantly  arising  in  his  mind,  and  he  seems  to  have  concluded, 
at  first,  that  he  must  abandon  poetry  altogether,  even  as  a  pas 
time,  if  he  wished  to  keep  up  with  his  colleagues  and  rivals. 
But  it  was  not  without  a  struggle.  Writing  to  his  recent 
teacher,  Mr.  Baylies,  he  says : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  at  length  summoned  up  industry  enough 
to  answer  yours  of  the  yth  of  February  last  [1817].  I  am  obliged  to 
you  for  the  kind  inquiries  you  make  concerning  my  situation.  You 
ask  whether  I  am  pleased  with  my  profession.  Alas !  sir,  the  Muse 
was  my  first  love,  and  the  remains  of  that  passion,  which  is  not  rooted 
out  nor  chilled  into  extinction,  will  always,  I  fear,  cause  me  to  look 
coldly  on  the  severe  beauties  of  Themis.  Yet  I  tame  myself  to  its 
labors  as  well  as  I  can,  and  have  endeavored  to  discharge  with  punctu 
ality  and  attention  such  of  the  duties  of  my  profession  as  I  am  capable 
of  performing.  When  I  wrote  you  last  I  had  a  partner  in  business. 
He  has  relinquished  it  to  me.  I  bought  him  out  a  few  days  ago  for  a 
mere  trifle.  The  business  of  the  office  has  hitherto  been  worth  about 
ten  or  twelve  hundred  dollars  a  year.  It  will  probably  be  less  here 
after,  yet  I  cannot  think  it  will  decrease  very  materially,  as  I  am  very 
v/cll  patronized,  and  have  been  considered  with  more  kindness  than  I 
could  have  expected.  There  is  another  office  in  town,  kept  by  Gen 
eral  Whiting,  one  of  the  senators  from  this  district,  who  has  a  partner, 
Mr.  Hyde.  In  '  arguing '  cases  I  have  not  been  very  frequently  em 
ployed.  I  never  spouted  in  a  court-house.  While  in  Hampshire 
County,  I  did  something  in  that  way,  and  began  to  make  long  speeches 
at  references'  and  in  justices'  courts,  but  since  I  came  here  my  part 
ner,  who  was  respectable  as  an  advocate,  and  had  the  advantage  of 
longer  experience,  took  that  trouble  off  my  hands.  Since  our  separa 
tion,  however,  I  am  trying  my  hand  at  it  again.  .  .  .  Upon  the  whole, 
I  have  every  cause  to  be  satisfied  with  my  situation.  Place  a  man 


148  THE    YOUNG  LAWYER. 

where  you  will,  it  is  an  easy  thing  for  him  to  dream  out  a  more  eligible 
mode  of  life  than  the  one  which  falls  to  his  lot.  While  I  have  too 
much  of  the  mauvaise  honte  to  seek  opportunities  of  this  nature,  I  have 
whipped  myself  up  to  a  desperate  determination  not  to  avoid  them." 

Mr.  Baylies  encouraged  him  thus : 

"  I  am  pleased  that  your  situation  is  so  promising,  and  hope  that 
your  most  sanguine  expectations  will  be  realized.  It  is  not  surprising 
that  you  should  meet  with  difficulty  in  breaking  off  all  connection 
with  the  Muse,  as  your  love  has  ever  met  with  so  favorable  a  return. 
I  do  not,  however,  condemn  your  resolution.  Poetry  is  a  commodity, 
I  know,  not  suited  to  the  American  market.  It  will  neither  help  a 
man  to  wealth  nor  office.  You  recollect,  no  doubt,  the  lines  of  Swift, 
more  applicable  to  this  country  than  to  his : 

"  '  Not  Beggar's  brat  on  bulk  begot ; 
Not  Bastard  of  a  Peddler-Scot, 
Are  so  disqualified  by  fate  ; 
To  use  in  Church  or  Law  or  State 
As  he  whom  Phoebus  in  his  ire 
Has  blasted  with  poetic  fire.'  " 

So,  a  little  later  in  the  year,  he  writes  a  former  fellow-student 
still  hopefully : 

"  It  may  be  said,  with  more  truth  of  our  profession  than  of  any 
other,  that  industry  is  the  road  to  success — and  you,  I  hope,  will  be 
more  diligent  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  than  I  was,  or  even  seemed 
to  be ;  for,  while  I  appeared  to  study,  I  was  half  the  time  only  dream 
ing  with  my  eyes  open.  As  essential  to  these  habits  of  diligence,  you 
are  doubtless  as  well  aware  as  I  am  that  one  should  make  himself 
satisfied  with  the  profession  he  has  chosen.  Our  profession  may  be  a 
hard  taskmaster,  but  its  rewards  are  proportioned  to  its  labors,  which 
is  as  much  as  any  way  of  life  has  to  say  for  itself." 

But,  while  he  was  striving  to  keep  his  business  well  in  hand, 
and  for  that  purpose  to  detach  his  mind  completely  from  liter 
ature,  the  Fates  were  arranging  it  otherwise.  Some  time  in 
June  his  father  wrote  to  him  from  Boston  that  Mr.  Willard 


DISCOVERY  OF  ••  THANATOPSIS." 

Phillips  (an  old  Hampshire  friend)  "  desired  him  to  contrib 
ute  something  to  his  new  review."  "  Prose  or  poetry  will  be 
equally  acceptable.  I  wish,"  the  prudent  doctor  adds,  "  if  you 
have  leisure,  you  would  comply,  as  it  might  be  the  means 
of  introducing  you  to  notice  in  the  capital.  Those  who  con 
tribute  are  generally  known  to  the  literati  in  and  about  Bos 
ton."  The  younger  Bryant  was  not  tempted  or  was  too  busy 
to  reply,  and  so  the  ambitious  father  undertook  to  push  the 
matter  in  his  own  way.  While  his  son  was  yet  at  Bridge- 
water,  he  had  discovered  the  manuscripts  of  "  Thanatopsis," 
the  "  Fragment,"  and  a  few  other  poems  carefully  hidden  away 
in  a  desk.  A  tradition  in  the  family  runs  that,  when  he  read 
the  first  of  these,  he  carried  it  to  a  lady  in  the  neighborhood, 
with  tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks,  and  exclaimed  :  "  Oh  ! 
read  that ;  it  is  Cullen's."  Mrs.  Howe,  in  her  reminiscences, 
relates  that,  "  during  Cullen's  residence  in  Bridgewater,  Dr. 
Bryant  brought  us  two  manuscript  poems — '  Thanatopsis '  and 
'  The  Waterfowl.'  *  We  were  greatly  delighted  with  them,  and 
so  was  the  father,  who  enjoyed  our  commendations  of  them 
very  much."  He  was  so  much  delighted  with  them  that  he 
resolved  to  carry  them  to  Boston,  to  subject  them  to  the  judg 
ment  of  his  friend  Phillips,  whose  new  literary  enterprise, 
called  "The  North  American  Review,"  though  but  recently 
established,  had  already  acquired  some  name.  It  was  the  bant 
ling  of  a  club  of  young  men,  mostly  lawyers  of  a  scribbling 
turn,  who,  in  the  winter  of  1814-' 15,  proposed  "to  foster  Ameri 
can  genius,  and,  by  independent  criticism,  instruct  and  guide 
the  public  taste."  Their  first  project  had  been  a  bimonthly 
publication,  but,  on  the  return  of  Mr.  William  Tudor  f  from 
Europe,  full  of  the  notion  of  a  quarterly,  the  two  plans  were 
combined  in  "  The  North  American  Review."  The  first  num 
ber  appeared  in  May,  1815.  Mr.  Tudor  acted  as  editor  till 


*  This  is  a  lapse  of  memory.    "  The  Waterfowl "  was  not  then  written,  as  we  have 
seen.     It  was  the  Inscription. 

f  Author  of  the  Life  of  James  Otis. 


150  THE    YOUNG  LAWYER. 

1817,  when  it  passed  entirely  into  the  hands  of  a  club,  of  which 
the  chief  members  were  Richard  H.  Dana,  Edward  T.  Chan- 
ning,  and  Willard  Phillips.  President  Kirkland  and  several 
of  the  professors  of  Harvard  College  promoted  its  establish 
ment.  Dana,  the  son  of  Chief  Justice  Dana,  was  an  ardent 
lover  of  poetry,  as  well  as  a  fine  critic ;  Channing,  a  brother 
of  the  more  famous  William  Ellery  Channing,  was  a  cultivated 
scholar,  who  two  years  afterward  became  Boylston  Professor 
of  Rhetoric  at  Cambridge ;  and  Phillips  was  a  tutor  in  the 
college,  but  later  in  life  a  judge  of  probate  and  a  distinguished 
writer  of  law  books.  They  were  all  deeply  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  that  naturalistic  revolution  which  was  taking  place  in 
the  literature  of  England,  and  which  they  hoped  to  infuse  into 
American  literature.  Dr.  Bryant  carried  his  wares  to  Phil 
lips,  because  Phillips  some  years  before  (1804)  had  been  a 
country  neighbor.  As  "  Thanatopsis,"  in  the  first  draft,  was 
full  of  erasures  and  interlineations,  he  had  transcribed  it ;  but 
the  other  pieces  were  in  their  original  state.  Mr.  Phillips 
was  not  at  home  when  he  called,  and  so  he  left  his  package, 
with  his  name.  When  it  was  put  into  the  editor's  hands,  he 
read  the  poems  with  an  absorbed  interest,  saw  at  once  their 
superiority  to  Avhat  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  receiving,  and 
he  hastened  with  them  to  his  fellows  in  Cambridge,  to  take 
their  opinions.  They  listened  attentively  to  his  reading  of 
them,  when  Dana,  at  the  close,  remarked,  with  a  quiet  smile : 
"  Ah !  Phillips,  }^ou  have  been  imposed  upon ;  no  one  on  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic  is  capable  of  writing  such  verses."  It  is 
easy  to  imagine  the  surprise  with  which  these  editors — whose 
best  contributions  before  had  been  indifferent  translations  from 
Martial  or  Boileau,  or  original  pieces  merely  imitative  of 
some  reigning  English  favorite — listened  to  the  sombre  but 
majestic  roll,  as  of  the  sea,  in  "  Thanatopsis,"  or  to  the  low, 
soft  music,  as  of  the  wind  through  innumerable  leaves,  in  the 
"  Fragment."  Dana,  indeed,  having  just  written  a  review  of 
Mr.  Allston's  "  Sylphs  of  the  Season,"  in  which  he  spoke  of  it 
as  "  a  cause  of  grief  and  mortification  "  that  it  was  the  only  ex- 


SUCCESS  OF  "  THANATOPSIS."  I5I 

ccption  in  a  wide  waste  of  feebleness  and  nullity,*  we  can  not 
wonder  at  his  exclamation.  But  Phillips  rejoined,  with  some 
spirit,  that  he  had  not  been  imposed  upon.  "  I  know,"  he  said, 
"the  gentleman  who  wrote  the  best  of  them,  at  least,  very  well; 
an  old  acquaintance  of  mine — Dr.  Bryant — at  this  moment  sit 
ting  in  the  State-House  in  Boston  as  Senator  from  Hampshire 
County."  "  Then,"  responded  Dana,  "  I  must  have  a  look  at 
him,"  and,  putting  on  his  clogs  and  his  cloak,  he  trudged  over 
to  Boston.  "  Arrived  at  the  senate,"  said  Mr.  Dana  in  a  con 
versation  afterward  with  the  Rev.  Robert  C.  Waterston,  "  I 
caused  the  doctor  to  be  pointed  out  to  me.  I  looked  at  him 
with  profound  attention  and  interest ;  and,  while  I  saw  a  man 
of  striking  presence,  the  stamp  of  genius  seemed  to  me  to  be 
wanting.  It  is  a  good  head,  I  said  to  myself,  but  I  do  not  see 
'Thanatopsis'  in  it,"  and  he  went  back  a  little  disappointed. 
Mr.  Waterston,  in  communicating  the  incident,  thinks  it  "  re 
markable  for  a  penetration  and  originality  characteristic  of 
Mr.  Dana's  sagacious  judgment." 

The  two  poems  were  published  in  September,  but  prefixed 
to  "  Thanatopsis  "  were  four  stanzas  on  the  subject  of  Death  f 
—which,  though  accidentally  contained  in  the  same  bundle, 
had  no  connection  with  it,  and  were  not  intended  for  publica 
tion.  Much  inferior  in  every  way  to  the  main  poem,  this  un 
happy  juxtaposition  may  have  prevented  many  readers  from 
perusing  it ;  at  any  rate  it  attracted  no  remark  in  the  contem 
porary  journals.  But  in  the  immediate  circle  of  the  reviewers 
the  excellence  of  both  poems  was  acknowlegded  and  extolled, 
and  the  father  and  son  were  at  once  solicited  to  become  regu 
lar  contributors.  Mr.  Phillips,  addressing  the  son,  in  Decem 
ber,  says :  "  I  recollect  the  epitome  of  your  present  self,  and 
with  pleasure  renew  the  acquaintance  through  your  father. 
Your  '  Fragment '  was  exceedingly  liked  here.  Among  others, 

*  This  review  appeared  in  the  same  number  of  "  The  North  American  Review  " 
in  which  "Thanatopsis"  and  the  "  Fragment "  were  printed — September,  1817. 

f  Written  at  the  time  of  his  dejection,  described  in  chapter  vi,  ante  p.  109.  Se« 
them  in  Poetical  Works,  vol.  i,  notes. 


152  THE   YOUNG  LAWYER. 

Mr.  Channing,  the  clergyman  (William  Ellery  Charming), 
spoke  very  highly  of  it,  and  all  the  best  judges  say  that  it  and 
your  father's  *  Thanatopsis  '  are  the  very  best  poetry  that  has 
been  published  in  this  country."  Whether  this  was  the  first 
intimation  the  younger  Bryant  received  of  the  uses  that  had 
been  made  of  his  poems  we  cannot  now  tell ;  probably  the 
"  Review  "  had  preceded  this  letter,  for  in  October  I  find  that 
he  was  instrumental  in  getting  up  a  club  to  subscribe  for  it ; 
and,  in  forwarding  the  subscription,  says :  "  I  have  one  of  the 
numbers  in  my  possession,"  which  it  is  to  be  presumed  was 
that  containing  his  own  handiwork.  On  January  9,  1818,  writ 
ing  to  his  father,  he  observes,  incidentally : 

"  We  have  subscribed  for  *  The  North  American  Review '  here.  I 
wrote  Mr.  Phillips  for  it,  and  he  answered  me.  He  gave  you  the 
credit^  if  it  can  be  called  by  that  name,  of  writing  the  '  Thanatopsis.' 
I  have  sent  you  a  correct  copy  of  my  version  of '  The  Fragment  of 
Simonides,'  and  another  little  poem  which  I  wrote  while  at  Bridge- 
water,*  which  you  may  get  inserted  if  you  please  in  that  work.  I 
would  contribute  something  in  prose  if  I  knew  on  what  subject  to 
write."  f 

In  February  the  father  answered,  from  Boston :  "  I  handed 
the  poems  you  sent  me  to  Mr.  Phillips,  who  has  since  informed 
me  that  they  were  approved  and  admired.  With  respect  to 
"  Thanatopsis,"  I  know  not  what  led  Phillips  to  imagine  I 

*  "  To  a  Friend  on  his  Marriage,"  not  printed  till  March,  1818,  in  the  same  num 
ber  with  the  "  Version  of  Simonides,"  and  "  The  Waterfowl." 

f  Mr.  Bryant's  interest  in  the  "  Review  "  increased  from  this  time,  and  writing 
to  Phillips,  April  I3th,  he  says  :  "  If  your  work  sustains  its  present  character,  it  will 
soon  acquire  a  reputation  not  easily  to  be  shaken.  A  good  Review  has  been  a  de 
sideratum  in  our  literature.  The  public  taste  requires  to  be  guided  and  reformed. 
Our  countrymen  are  assisted  in  forming  their  opinions  concerning  the  numerous 
modern  publications  imported  into  this  country  from  Great  Britain  by  the  judgment 
of  the  critics  of  that  island.  But,  with  respect  to  our  native  works,  we  have  hitherto 
had  no  such  guide  on  which  we  could  safely  rely.  Your  work  with  its  present  prom 
ise,  I  think,  will  supply  what  we  so  much  want,  and  constitute  a  kind  of  literary  cen 
sorship,  which,  assigning  to  merit  its  just  applause,  and  exposing  unsupported  preten 
sions,  shall  give  a  proper  direction  to  our  national  tastes." 


LONGS  FOR  BOSTON. 


153 


wrote  it,  unless  it  was  because  it  was  transcribed  by  me ;  I  left 
it  at  his  house  when  he  was  absent,  and  did  not  see  him  after 
ward.  I  have,  however,  set  him  right  on  that  subject,  and 
told  him  what  you  said  about  writing  for  the  '  Review.'  "  But 
if  Phillips  was  set  right  others  were  not,  for  Edward  Channing, 
nearly  a  year  later,  still  refers  to  the  poem  as  Dr.  Bryant's, 
and  Mr.  Dana  was  under  the  same  impression  in  1821,  when 
Mr.  Bryant  first  went  to  Boston. 

These  small  literary  successes  seem  to  have  renewed  Mr. 
Bryant's  desire  to  remove  from  the  narrow  and  sterile  field  in 
which  he  was  to  the  livelier  atmosphere  of  Boston.  His  fa 
ther  remarks,  in  reply  to  an  intimation  of  the  kind,  that,  "  with 
regard  to  removing  to  Boston,  there  are  some  objections,  one 
of  which  is  that  the  county  of  Suffolk  is  crowded  with  lawyers. 
Still  I  think  an  industrious  young  man  of  talents  and  enter 
prise  would  in  a  few  years  force  his  way  into  notice  among 
them.  But  will  it  not  be  better  for  you  to  continue  where  you 
are  a  few  years,  and  lay  a  solid  foundation,  \vhile  you  have 
your  time  to  yourself  without  interruption?  I,  however,  do 
not  wish  to  influence  your  determination  in  respect  to  the 
disposition  of  your  own  affairs.  Every  young  man  who  in 
tends  to  make  his  way  in  the  world  and  figure  among  his 
contemporaries  must  rely  at  last  upon  his  own  talent  and  ex 
ertions." 

Mr.  Phillips  was  too  vigilant  an  editor  to  be  put  off  with 
mere  promises  of  contributions,  and  already  had  written  to 
the  younger  Bryant,  urging  him  to  do  something  in  prose, 
suggesting  that  a  recent  collection  of  American  poetry  by  one 
Solyman  Brown  would  furnish  a  good  subject.  The  young 
lawyer,  though  somewhat  inclined  to  undertake  it,  did  not 
suppose  himself  in  possession  of  the  requisite  materials.  He 
applied  to  his  father,  February  2Oth,  in  regard  to  it,  thus : 

"  DEAR  FATHER  :  If  I  can  procure  the  book  he  speaks  of,  I  will 
undertake  the  subject  mentioned  by  Mr.  Phillips.  To  collect  much 
further  information  than  I  at  present  possess,  my  situation  here  does 
not  afford  me  many  facilities.  This  place  is  like  most  other  villages 


154  THE   YOUNG  LAWYER. 

in  this  country — there  are  not  many  who  suffer  an  excessive  passion 
for  books  to  interfere  with  other  employments  or  amusements,  and 
they  encumber  their  houses  with  no  overgrown  collections.  This 
scarcity  of  books,  indeed,  occasions  me  much  inconvenience  after  hav 
ing  been  accustomed  all  my  life  to  have  access  to  very  respectable 
libraries.  Most  of  the  American  poets  of  much  note,  I  believe,  I  have 
read :  Dwight,  Barlow,  Trumbull,  Humphreys,  Honeywood,  Clifton, 
Paine.  The  works  of  Hopkins  I  have  never  met  with.  I  have  seen 
Philip  Freneau's  writings,  and  some  things  by  Francis  Hopkinson. 
There  was  a  Dr.  Ladd,  if  I  am  not  mistaken  in  the  name,  of  Rhode 
Island,  who,  it  seems,  was  much  celebrated  in  his  time  for  his  poetical 
talent,  of  whom  I  have  seen  hardly  anything,  and  another,  Dr.  Church, 
a  Tory  at  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution,  who  was  compelled  to 
leave  the  country,  and  some  of  whose  satirical  verses  which  I  have 
heard  recited  possess  considerable  merit  as  specimens  of  forcible  and 
glowing  invective.  I  have  read  most  of  Mrs.  Morton's  poems,  and 
turned  over  a  volume  of  stale  and  senseless  rhymes  by  Mrs.  Warren. 
Before  the  time  of  these  writers,  some  of  whom  are  still  alive,  and  the 
rest  belong  to  the  generation  which  has  just  passed  away,  I  imagine 
that  we  could  hardly  be  said  to  have  any  poetry  of  our  own,  and  in 
deed  it  seems  to  me  that  American  poetry,  such  as  it  is,  may  justly 
enough  be  said  to  have  had  its  rise  with  that  knot  of  Connecticut 
poets,  Trumbull  and  others,  most  of  whose  works  appeared  about  the 
time  of  the  Revolution.  Any  facts  which  may  occur  to  you  on  the 
subject,  of  which  I  might,  perhaps,  be  unaware  or  ignorant,  I  should 
be  obliged  to  you  to  suggest  to  me.  I  may  visit  Cummington  before 
next  June.  I  remember  the  *  American  Review  and  Monthly  Maga 
zine,'  published  some  eighteen  or  twenty  years  ago — a  book  which 
you  have — contained  considerable  information  on  this  subject,  and 
some  biographies. 

"  The  Address  you  mention  it  is  out  of  my  power  to  send  to  you, 
as  it  was  printed  in  the  Berkshire  *  Star,'  and  I  have  not  the  paper  in 
which  it  appeared.  It  was  hasty  and  imperfect,  and  I  was  reluctant 
to  suffer  it  to  be  published,  and  should  not  have  consented  but  for 
the  solicitations  of  Mr.  Wheeler,  our  parson.  The  good  man  was  so 
importunate  and  so  confident  that  it  would  be  good  on  account  of  the 
quarter  from  which  it  came,  it  not  being  very  common  for  young  law 
yers  in  this  part  of  the  country  to  harangue  upon  such  subjects,  that  I 


AN  ADDRESS  ON   THE  BIBLE.  ^5 

could  not  well  refuse  him,  but  stipulated  that  the  production  should 
appear  without  my  name.  It  was,  however,  by  some  mistake,  printed 
as  the  work  of  William  C.  Bryant,  to  which  was  carefully  subjoined  at- 
torncy-at-law" 

The  Address  referred  to  in  the  last  paragraph  was  one  he 
had  been  requested  to  prepare  for  the  Bible  Society  of  Great 
Barrington,  before  which  it  wras  delivered  on  the  2Qth  of  Jan 
uary,  and  the  next  week  published  in  the  local  paper  of  Stock- 
bridge.  His  general  theme  was  "  The  Bible,"  of  which  he 
said :  "  Its  sacredness  awes  me,  and  I  approach  it  with  the 
same  sort  of  reverential  feeling  that  an  ancient  Hebrew  might 
be  supposed  to  feel  who  was  about  to  touch  the  ark  of  God 
with  unhallowed  hands."  His  special  topic,  however,  was  the 
political  and  social  influences  of  the  Scriptures,  and  he  tried  to 
show,  by  glancing  at  the  moral  condition  of  the  nations,  that 
wherever  they  were  allowed  a  free  circulation  among  the  peo 
ple  the  great  interests  of  human  civilization  were  rapidly  ad 
vanced.  In  style  it  was  exceedingly  simple  and  concise,  but, 
as  a  whole,  showed  a  ready  familiarity  with  the  state  of  society 
in  different  parts  of  the  globe.  This  address  made  him  more 
widely  known  to  the  people  of  Berkshire,  and  was  of  consider 
able  advantage  to  him  in  his  profession.  But  his  growing  re 
pute  in  law  and  literature  seems  not  yet  to  have  extinguished 
his  military  aspirations,  for  in  a  note  to  Baylies,  dated  April 
1 4th,  he  says: 

"  The  great  folks  at  Washington,  I  see,  make  themselves  pretty 
busy  with  the  difficulties  between  this  country  and  Spain.  If  we 
should  have  a  war  with  that  country,  and  one  could  get  a  commission 
in  the  army,  he  might,  perhaps,  before  it  was  ended,  have  an  oppor 
tunity  of  garnishing  his  private  history  with  a  few  South  American 
adventures." 

In  the  postscript  he  modestly  asks : 

"  Do  you  read  '  The  North  American  Review  '  ?  In  the  number 
for  September  (I  believe),  1817,  perhaps  in  the  preceding  number, 


156  THE   YOUNG  LAWYER. 

there  are  some  lines  entitled  '  Thanatopsis '  and  '  A  Fragment,'  by  an 
old  friend  of  yours,  and  in  the  number  for  March,  1818,  three  more 
'  Pair  of  varses  '  from  the  same  hand." 

At  this  time  Mr.  Bryant  was  called  by  his  business  to  the 
city  of  New  York ;  it  was  his  first  visit  to  any  considerable 
town,  and  it  would  be  agreeable  to  know  the  impressions  it 
made  upon  his  mind ;  but  the  following  brief  letter  to  his 
father,  dated  June  20,  1818,  is  the  only  reference  to  the  subject 
that  remains : 

"DEAR  FATHER  :  Yours  of  the  nth  instant  I  received  on  the  i3th 
by  my  uncle,  whom  I  had  little  time  to  see,  as  I  was  then  just  setting 
off  to  attend  a  court  in  Sheffield.  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  the  concern 
you  express  respecting  my  health.  It  has  been  considerably  improved 
by  my  journey  to  New  York.  I  was  absent  a  fortnight;  we  were 
three  days  coming  up  the  river,  beating  up  one  day  and  night  against 
a  furious  head-wind,  during  most  of  which  time  I  was  obliged  to  lie 
flat  on  my  back  in  my  berth  to  prevent  sea-sickness,  of  which  I  felt 
some  qualms.  While  in  New  York  I  kept  running  about  continually, 
and  this  constant  exercise,  together  with  being  rocked  and  tumbled 
about  in  the  vessel,  operated  on  me  as  a  restorative,  and  since  my  re 
turn  my  pain  in  the  side  and  night-sweats  have  left  me.  I  believe  my 
affairs  will  not  permit  my  visiting  Cummington  at  present.  My  sev 
eral  absences  of  late  render  it  proper  that  I  should  now  give  a  little 
attention  to  my  office,  and,  as  I  have  taken  off  the  tether  from  Major 
Ives  and  let  him  loose  into  the  field  of  practice  again,  it  has  become 
necessary  that  I  should  use  some  diligence  to  prevent  any  part  of  that 
share  of  practice  which  I  have  obtained  from  falling  into  his  hands. 
Perhaps,  however,  I  may  see  Cummington  some  time  in  the  course  of 
the  summer  or  autumn.  I  have  written  a  review  of  Mr.  Brown's 
book,  and  forwarded  it  to  the  publishers  of '  The  North  American 
Review.'  Luckily,  I  found  the  volume  in  this  neighborhood,  and  es 
caped  throwing  away  my  money  on  it.  It  is  poor  stuff." 

The  review,  called  "An  Essay  on  American  Poetry,"  was 
printed  in  July.  It  was  the  author's  first  elaborate  effort  in 
prose,  and  while  the  style  is  on  the  whole  graceful  and  fin- 


AMERICAN  POETRY  JUDGED.  157 

ished,  the  judgments,  though  still  somewhat  influenced  by  pre 
vailing  opinions,  are  sensible  and  independent.  In  a  very  quiet 
manner  the  author  dismisses  the  poetical  pretensions  of  the 
rhymers  who  were  then  in  vogue.  He  does  not  depreciate 
their  products  unjustly,  or  indulge  in  the  slightest  bitterness 
of  criticism ;  on  the  contrary,  his  appreciations  are  more  lib 
eral  than  any  we  should  now  express,  saying  the  best  things 
he  could  of  each  writer ;  but,  nevertheless,  like  a  judge  giving 
final  sentence,  he  banishes  the  entire  set  to  the  limbo  of  obli 
vion.  It  is  the  coming  poet,  in  fact,  unconsciously  disposing 
of  his  predecessors,  and  clearing  away  the  rubbish  to  make 
room  for  others  better  qualified  to  do  honor  to  the  nascent 
genius  of  their  country.  Its  principal  effect  is  to  show  us  the 
limitations  in  which  our  poetic  literature  was  compelled  to 
begin  under  the  influences  of  an  older  literature  in  the  same 
language,  and  from  which  it  was  almost  impossible  for  tyros 
and  stammerers  to  escape.  Mr.  Bryant's  one  demand  is  for  a 
spirit  of  greater  independence,  for  less  imitation  of  form,  for  a 
more  hearty  reliance  upon  native  instinct  and  inspiration ;  in 
a  word,  for  greater  freedom,  greater  simplicity,  and  greater 
truth. 

What  effect  this  quiet  dethroning  of  much-worshipped  lit 
tle  idols  produced  on  the  popular  mind  we  are  not  informed  ; 
but  Mr.  Channing  and  his  colleagues  highly  approved  its  tone, 
and  said  so  to  the  author,  who  answered,  September  i8th,  as 
follows : 

"  I  am  much  gratified  with  the  favorable  reception  that  my  con 
tribution  4o  '  The  North  American  Review  '  has  met  with  from  the  pro 
prietors  of  that  work,  as  well  as  with  the  obliging  manner  in  which  it 
has  been  communicated  to  me,  and  feel  myself  happy  if  I  may  be  es 
teemed  to  have  done  anything  to  raise  the  literature  of  my  country. 
In  the  mean  time  I  may  occasionally  attempt  something  for  your 
journal,  and  lend  such  assistance  as  might  be  expected  from  one  situ 
ated  as  I  am,  Musis  procul,  et  Permesside  lympha,  distant  from  books 
and  literary  opportunities,  and  occupied  with  a  profession  which 
ought  to  engage  most  of  my  attention.  I  have  tried  to  write  an  essay 


THE    YOUNG  LAWYER. 

for  your  next  number,  but  could  not  satisfy  myself.*  There  is  hardly 
any  spot  in  the  department  of  essays  unoccupied.  With  respect  to 
writing  another  review,  I  will  be  contented  with  such  a  work  as  you 
may  think  proper  to  mention — provided  you  do  not  set  me  too  diffi 
cult  a  task.  I  enclose  you  a  small  poem  which  I  found  by  me,  and 
which  you  may  give  a  place  in  your  journal,  if  you  think  it  will  do." 

The  poem  enclosed  was  "  The  Yellow  Violet,"  written  some 
years  before.  It  was  not  published  in  the  "  Review,"  however, 
owing  to  the  discontinuance  of  the  department  of  "  original 
poetry."  Mr.  Channing,  advising  him  of  the  change,  takes 
occasion  to  commend  his  verses  very  highly,  and  to  suggest 
that  he  ought  to  collect  his  fugitive  pieces  into  a  volume.  Mr. 
Bryant's  reply  (March  25,  1819)  shows  the  moderate  estimate 
that  he  put  upon  his  poetical  labors  : 

"  Your  favor  of  the  8th  inst.  has  been  received.  To  commenda 
tion  so  flattering  as  you  are  pleased  to  bestow  on  me,  coming  from 
such  a  quarter,  I  hardly  know  what  to  say.  Had  you  seen  more  of 
those  attempts  of  mine,  concerning  which  you  express  yourself  so  fa 
vorably,  your  opinion  would,  perhaps,  have  been  different.  The  lines 
I  sent  you,  you  are  at  liberty  to  dispose  of  as  you  think  proper ;  but  do 
not,  by  any  means,  take  any  trouble  to  make  a  place  for  them  in  your 
journal,  and,  above  all,  do  not  let  them  appear  if  they  are  not  worthy 
of  it.  ...  If  I  can  procure  the  '  Backwoodsman  '  (a  poem  by  J.  K. 
Paulding)  at  any  of  the  neighboring  book-stores,  I  will  review  it  for 
your  June  number.  If  I  do  not  get  it,  I  will  send  some  article  for  the 
miscellaneous  department.  ...  I  may,  perhaps,  some  time  or  other, 
venture  a  little  collection  of  poetry  in  print,  for  I  do  not  write  much 
— and,  should  it  be  favorably  received,  it  may  give  me  courage  to  do 
something  more.  In  the  mean  time,  I  cannot  be  too  grateful  for  the 

*  The  essay  on  "  The  Happy  Temperament,"  published  in  No.  g,  p.  206,  of  the 
"  Review,"  in  which  he  tries  to  show  that,  while  cheerful  dispositions  are  to  be  cul 
tivated,  a  true  sensibility  to  the  evils  and  sorrows  of  life  is  not  only  the  cause  of 
philanthropic  exertion,  but  the  source  of  peculiar  satisfactions,  which  give  balance 
and  dignity  to  the  character.  Similar  thoughts  are  expressed  by  Coleridge  in  a  son 
net  to  Bowles.  The  essay  is  worth  reading  as  a  clew  to  his  own  prevailing  serious 
ness. 


AN  OFFICE-HOLDER. 


159 


distant  voice  of  kindness  that  cheers  me  in  the  pursuit  of  those  studies 
which  I  have  nobody  here  to  share  with  me." 

I  building's  book  he  was  unable  to  get,  and  so  he  did  not 
review  it,  but  he  sent  instead  an  essay  on  the  use  of  "  Trisylla 
bic  Feet  in  Iambic  Verse,"  which  discloses  how  close  and  crit 
ical  a  student  he  was  of  the  mere  technique  of  his  art.  It  was 
written,  I  suspect,  some  time  before  (probably  in  1815),  when 
he  was  breaking  away  from  the  school  of  Pope  and  adopting 
the  broader  methods  of  the  later  English  school.  He  contends 
in  it  that  the  introduction  of  an  occasional  anapest  in  iambic 
measures,  though  seemingly  irregular,  really  adds  to  the  vi 
vacity,  if  not  the  beauty,  of  the  lines.  He  cites  the  older  Eng 
lish  authors — Shakespeare,  the  dramatists,  and  Milton — in  proof 
of  his  position,  alleging,  moreover,  that  among  the  more  mod 
ern  writers  the  most  successful  are  those  who  are  freest  from 
the  trammels  of  the  Queen  Anne  period.* 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Bryant  lost  none  of  his  interest  as  a  good 
citizen  in  the  local  affairs  of  the  town  in  which  he  lived.  On 
the  Qth  of  March,  1819,  he  was  elected  one  of  its  tithing  men, 
whose  duties  consisted  in  keeping  order  in  the  churches,  and 
enforcing  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath.  I  may  add  that 
soon  afterward  he  was  chosen  town  clerk  by  a  vote  of  82  out 
of  102.  His  principal  function  in  this  capacity  was  to  keep 
account  of  the  town's  doings,  such  as  the  appointment  of  se 
lectmen,  surveyors  of  the  highway,  fence  viewers,  field  dri 
vers,  and  hog  reeves.  One  may  still  see  his  records  at  Great 
Barrington,  where  they  form  an  object  of  considerable  curios 
ity  to  summer  visitors.  Written  in  a  neat  and  flexible  hand,  it 
is  remarked  that  almost  the  only  blot  is  where  he  registers  his 
own  marriage,  and  the  only  interlineation  where  in  giving  the 
birth  of  his  first  child  he  had  left  out  the  name  of  the  mother. 
These  archives  are  a  curious  evidence  of  the  extremely  simple 
and  primitive  way  in  which  New  England  towns  were  former- 

*  Wordsworth  is  not  referred  to  throughout,  which  is  one  reason  I  have  for  think 
ing  it  was  written  some  time  before  it  was  printed. 


160  THE   YOUNG  LAWYER. 

ly  governed.  Each  one  was  a  little  Democratic  Republic,  the 
people  of  which  came  together  annually  on  the  call  of  the  se 
lectmen,  through  the  constable,  to  choose  the  several  officers 
required  to  execute  the  laws,  to  fix  the  rates  of  local  taxation, 
and  then  to  adjourn  for  the  rest  of  the  year.  His  salary  as 
clerk  was  five  dollars  per  annum,  at  which  rate  he  held  the 
place  for  the  period  of  five  years — all  the  time  that  he  remained 
in  the  village.  A  more  important  dignity,  conferred  upon 
him  by  the  Governor  of  the  Commonwealth,  was  that  of  Jus 
tice  of  the  Peace,  empowered  to  hear  and  try  small  causes  as 
an  inferior  local  court.  In  this  character,  it  appears,  he  per 
formed  the  marriage  ceremony  twice,  for  contracting  parties 
who  objected  to  the  service  of  the  usual  clergyman  because 
they  differed  from  him  in  religious  opinion.  An  old  gentleman 
still  living  makes  it  a  boast  that  he  was  "  jined  to  his  first  old 
woman  by  Squire  Bryant." 


CHAPTER  NINTH. 

THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 
A.  D.    I82O,  1821. 

WE  have  seen  Dr.  Bryant,  the  poet's  father,  complaining, 
in  a  letter  on  a  former  page,  of  over-exertion  and  impaired 
health.  A  hereditary  weakness  of  the  lungs,  made  worse  by 
exposure  to  the  bleak  atmosphere  of  the  hills,  had  long  given 
his  family  cause  for  anxiety.  His  own  skill,  aided  by  that  of  Dr. 
Thatcher  and  other  distinguished  physicians  of  Boston,  whom 
he  knew,  enabled  him  to  alleviate  the  more  painful  symptoms. 
It  was,  however,  only  for  a  time.  A  visit  made  to  the  sea-shore 
in  1819,  in  which  Cullen  was  his  companion,  brought  no  relief. 
On  his  return  he  was  confined  to  his  house,  and  in  the  spring 
of  1820  to  his  bed.  Had  he  been  able  to  command  means  and 
leisure  for  a  sojourn  in  a  more  congenial  climate,  he  might  per 
haps  have  been  saved ;  but  a  life  of  almost  incessant  jogging, 
by  night  and  day,  in  all  weathers,  over  mountain  roads  that 
seemed  rather  the  channels  of  torrents  than  ways  of  travel,  had 
exhausted  his  vitality.  He  lingered  until  the  2oth  of  March, 
when  he  died,  a  comparatively  young  man  still,  being  only  in 
the  fifty-third  year  of  his  age.  Even  at  this  distance  of  time, 
one  cannot  but  feel  a  profound  regret  that  he  who  had  so 
carefully  tended  the  early  development  of  his  boy,  and  taken 
so  natural  a  pride  in  the  beginnings  of  his  success,  should  not 
have  lived  to  witness  the  full  bloom  of  his  genius  and  fame. 

The  event  William,  as  he  was  now  called,  communicated  to 
an  aunt  in  these  words : 

VOL.  I. — 12 


162  THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 

"CUMMINGTON,  March  22,  1820. 

"  DEAR  AUNT  CHARITY  :  I  sit  down  to  give  you  the  melancholy 
news  of  the  death  of  my  father.  He  expired  on  Sunday,  the  2oth 
of  this  month,  between  the  hours  of  seven  and  eight  in  the  evening. 
It  was  not  his  fate  to  wait  the  gradual  extinction  of  life  which  is  the 
usual  termination  of  the  disorder  under  which  he  labored,  and  which 
would  probably  have  carried  him  off  soon.  ...  I  never  saw  anybody 
die  before,  but,  judging  as  well  as  I  am  able,  I  thought  his  exit  on  the 
whole  more  easy  than  usual.  .  .  .  Let  us  hojte  that  after  all  his  suffer 
ings  our  dear  departed  friend  has  gone  to  a  happier  world.  A  man 
so  honest  and  upright  in  his  conduct,  so  gentle  in  his  temper,  so  for 
giving  of  injuries,  so  full  of  offices  of  humanity — to  which  he  sacrificed 
his  health  and  perhaps  his  life — must  be  of  those  whom  God  rewards 
with  felicity.  Indeed,  if  it  is  not  so,  I  think  there  is  little  hope  for 
any  one  of  the  human  race. 

"  I  am,  dear  aunt, 

"  Your  affectionate  nephew, 

"WM.  C.  BRYANT." 

It  was  a  blow  that  fell  with  great  severity  upon  all  the 
children,  whom  it  deprived  of  their  main  protector  and  sup 
port,  but  upon  none  of  them  with  a  more  crushing  force  than 
upon  Cullen,  who  had  been  so  intimately  associated  with  his 
father  from  a  tender  age.  The  memory  of  this  loss  clung 
to  him  for  many  years.  Some  time  before,  he  had  written  a 
"  Hymn  to  Death  " — not  in  the  old  querulous  vein,  but  cele 
brating  his  triumphs  over  the  lusty  Leviathans  who  trample 
and  consume  the  poor  and  weak  ones  of  the  earth — which  he 
now  recalled,  in  order  to  change  its  tone  of  praise  into  one  of 
lamentation.  For 

"  He  is  in  his  grave  who  taught  my  youth 
The  art  of  verse,  and  in  the  bud  of  life 
Offer'd  me  to  the  Muses—" 

And,    again,    eight    years    later,    when    speaking    in    "  The 
Past"  of 


A   WRITER  OF  HYMNS.  ^3 

" — earlier  friends,  the  good,  the  kind, 
The  venerable  form,  the  exalted  mind," 

he  was  thinking  of 

"Him  by  whose  kind,  paternal  side  I  sprung." 

Faithful  to  his  vow  of  not  allowing  his  poetic  impulses  to 
interfere  with  his  professional  pursuits,  Mr.  Bryant  does  not 
appear  to  have  written  anything  in  verse  save  the  fragment 
called  "  The  Burial  Place,"  begun  and  broken  off  in  1819,  since 
he  entered  upon  his  practice  in  1816.  What  few  pieces  he 
sent  to  "  The  North  American  Review  "  were  taken  from  his 
scrap-book.  But  now,  in  1820,  his  poetic  susceptibilities  were 
assailed  from  several  sides  at  once.  Soon  after  his  father's 
death,  while  he  was  yet  full  of  the  sentiment  it  inspired,  an  ap 
peal  was  made  to  him  by  the  Unitarians,  in  aid  of  a  collection 
of  Hymns  they  projected.  Mr.  Henry  D.  Sewall,  the  editor, 
applied  to  Miss  Catharine  M.  Sedgwick,  of  Stockbridge,  to  use 
her  efforts  in  his  behalf,  and  the  result  she  communicates  to 
her  brother  Robert,  of  New  York,  in  a  letter  dated  May  17, 
1820: 

"  *  I  wish,'  she  says,  'you  would  give  my  best  regards  to  Mr.  Sew- 
all,  and  tell  him  that  I  have  had  great  success  in  my  agency.  I  sent 
for  Mr.  Bryant  last  week,  and  he  called  to  see  me  on  his  return  from 
court.  I  told  him  Mr.  Sewall  had  commissioned  me  to  request  some 
contributions  from  him  to  a  collection  of  Hymns,  and  he  said,  without 
any  hesitation,  that  he  was  obliged  to  Mr.  Sewall,  and  would  with 
great  pleasure  comply  with  his  request.  He  has  a  charming  counte 
nance,  and  modest  but  not  bashful  manners.  I  made  him  promise  to 
come  and  see  us  shortly.  He  seemed  gratified ;  and,  if  Mr.  Sewall 
has  reason  to  be  obliged  to  me  (which  I  certainly  think  he  has),  I  am 
doubly  obliged  by  an  opportunity  of  securing  the  acquaintance  of  so 
interesting  a  man.'  "* 

*  Forty-four  years  after  this  Mr.  Bryant  printed,  without  publishing,  a  small  vol 
ume  of  his  Hymns,  and  sent  a  copy  to  Miss  Sedgwick,  who,  in  her  reply,  says  :  "  My 
dear  Mr.  Bryant:  But  for  your  prohibition,  I  should  at  once,  on  the  receipt  of  my 
precious  little  '  Hymns'  have  sent  to  you  my  earnest  thanks,  and  told  you  how  vividly 


1 64  THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 

This  was  the  first  time  Miss  Sedgwick  had  seen  the  poet ; 
and  Mr.  Bryant,  who  never  ceased  to  honor  all  the  family  for 
their  virtues,  and  to  be  grateful  to  them  for  their  attentions  to 
him  when  he  was  quite  unknown  to  the  rest  of  the  world,  re 
calls  his  introduction  to  her  in  the  reminiscences  he  wrote  for 
her  "  Memoirs" : 

" t  At  that  time,'  he  says,  referring  to  his  first  arrival  at  Great  Bar- 
rington,  *  I  had  no  acquaintance  with  the  Sedgwick  family ;  but  the 
youngest  of  them,  Charles  Sedgwick,  a  man  of  most  genial  and  engag 
ing  manners  and  agreeable  conversation,  as  well  as  of  great  benevo 
lence  and  worth,  was  a  member  of  the  Berkshire  bar,  and  by  him,  a 
year  or  two  afterward,  I  was  introduced  to  the  others,  who,  from  the 
first,  seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  being  kind  to  me.  I  remember  very 
well  the  appearance  of  Miss  Sedgwick  at  that  period  of  her  life.  She 
was  well  formed,  slightly  inclining  to  plumpness,  with  regular  features, 
eyes  beaming  with  benevolence,  a  pleasing  smile,  a  soft  voice,  and 
gentle  and  captivating  manners.  The  portrait  of  her  by  Ingham, 
painted  about  that  time,  or  a  little  later,  although  not  regarded,  I 
think,  by  the  family  as  a  perfect  likeness,  yet  brings  to  my  mind  her 
image  as  I  saw  her  then,  with  that  mingled  expression  of  thoughtful- 
ness  and  benignity  with  which  her  features  were  informed.'  " 

At  the  instance  of  this  amiable  and  accomplished  family 
the  young  lawyer  was  called  to  pass  through  an  ordeal  by 
which  every  promising  young  professional  man  was  formerly 
tried  in  this  country — the  delivery  of  a  Fourth  of  July  oration. 
It  was  spoken  at  Stockbridge,  and  with  some  success.  Mr. 
William  Pitt  Palmer,  many  years  afterward,  in  1858,  wrote  of  it, 
thus :  "  It  was  the  first  time,"  he  says,  "  I  ever  saw  the  poet. 
He  spoke  from  the  pulpit  of  the  Old  Church  ;  his  delivery  was 
modest  and  graceful.  I  got  a  position  in  the  gallery  near  the 
speaker,  and  have  not  yet  forgotten  how  fine,  large,  and  promi- 

they  recall  the  day  when  the  young  poet,  one  of  the  first  objects  of  my  hero-worship, 
offered  me  in  my  dear  home  the  six  hymns  ;  and  but  for  boring  you,  I  would  have 
described  the  color  and  form  of  his  cloak,  and  the  fire  and  expression  of  his  counte 
nance,  but — " 


A  FOURTH  OF  JULY  ORATION.  ^5 

ncnt  his  forehead  appeared  to  me  under  the  brown  locks  that 
curled  around  it.  lie  was  already  looked  upon  as  a  person  of 
unusual  literary  attainments — one  of  the  first  botanists  of  Berk 
shire,  one  of  the  best  classical  scholars  in  all  Massachusetts, 
and  a  poet  facile  princcps  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic."  This 
address,  though  replete  with  patriotic  sentiment,  would  not,  1 
fear,  pass  muster  among  the  models  of  fervid  anniversary  elo 
quence.  Distinguished  by  its  purity  of  style  and  solid  gravity 
of  thought,  it  must  have  fallen  coldly  upon  the  ears  of  the  au 
dience  if  they  were  at  all  accustomed  to  the  turgidness  and 
inflation  characteristic  of  such  occasions.  In  one  respect  it  is 
still  interesting  to  us,  and  that  is,  its  indignant  protest  against 
the  "  Missouri  Compromise,"  a  measure  of  contemporary  Fed 
eral  legislation,  described  as  "extending  the  dangerous  and 
detestable  practice  of  enslaving  men  into  territory  yet  unpol 
luted  with  the  curse."  It  wras  the  earliest  utterance  of  his 
convictions  not  only  in  regard  to  the  character  of  slavery,  but 
in  regard  to  those  party  bargains  euphuized  as  compromises, 
which  transact  with  evil,  and  debauch  and  degrade  the  public 
conscience.  Yet  the  raw  simplicity  of  the  country  poet  and 
lawyer  is  seen  in  the  expression  of  his  belief  that  the  people  of 
Missouri  would  have  too  much  good  sense  and  kindness  of 
heart  to  accept  the  pernicious  privilege  granted  them  by  the 
nation. 

Mr.  Dana's  project  of  a  periodical,  to  be  called  "  The  Idle 
Man,"  and  to  consist  of  "  poetry,  essays,  criticisms,  and  his 
torical  and  biographical  sketches,"  enlisted  Mr.  Bryant's 
warmest  interest  from  the  beginning.  As  early  as  May,  1821, 
Mr.  Channing  asked  his  assistance  for  it,  suggesting  that  "a 
literary  frolic  now  and  then  is  the  best  restorative  for  a  con 
scientious,  but  overworked  and  jaded,  attorney."  In  reply, 
Mr.  Bryant  put  "  The  Yellow  Violet"  at  Mr.  Dana's  disposal, 
and  enclosed  another  piece,  "  Green  River,"  which  he  had 
picked  out  of  his  waste-basket,  adding  that  his  attorney- 
ship  "  was  not  so  absorbing  that  he  might  not  turn  off  some 
trifles  occasionally,"  while  "  a  connection  with  '  The  Idle 


1 66  THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 

Man  '  would  be  of  more  honor  to  him  than  he  could  be  of 
service  to  it." 

When  the  first  number  of  "  The  Idle  Man  "  appeared,*  he 
wrote  Dana  that  he  was  delighted  with  it,  and  "  should  think 
better  of  the  world  if  it  liked  it,  too.  It  is  an  attempt  to  bring 
us  back  to  the  purer  and  better  feelings  of  our  nature.  When 
I  saw  one  of  the  articles,"  he  goes  on  to  say,  "  headed  '  Mr. 
Kean '  "  (an  acute  and  powerful  criticism  of  Kean's  acting),  "  I 
wished  you  had  chosen  a  subject  more  likely  to  be  popular ; 
but,  before  I  had  finished  reading  it,  you  had  interested 
me  in  it  so  much  that  I  would  not  have  exchanged  it  for 
any  other. f  It  is  not  possible  for  me  in  this  retirement  to 
judge  of  the  progress  your  work  is  making  in  the  literary 
world,  but  all  whom  I  have  seen  that  have  read  it  speak 
favorably  of  it.  You  must  suffer  the  world  to  get  in  love 
with  it  gradually,  if  you  mean  that  they  shall  remain  attached 
to  it  long.  I  feel  a  strong  confidence  that  it  will  succeed." 
This  confidence  grew  as  the  successive  numbers  appeared. 
Mr.  Bryant  not  only  contributed  some  of  his  best  poems 
to  it,  such  as  "  Green  River,"  "  A  Winter  Piece,"  "  The 
West  Wind,"  "  The  Burial  Place,"  "  A  Walk  at  Sunset,"  but 
he  commended  it  warmly  in  the  newspapers  and  to  private 
friends. 

If  Mr.  Bryant's  self-imposed  poetic  abstinence  was  inter 
rupted  by  the  demand  of  his  denomination  for  hymns,  and 
by  his  interest  in  Dana's  enterprise,  it  was  completely  routed 
by  an  enemy  from  another  quarter — a  pair  of  bright  eyes. 
Not  long  after  his  settlement  in  Great  Barrington,  at  one 
of  the  village  "  sociables "  he  met  a  Miss  Fanny  Fairchild, 
who  seems  to  have  impressed  him  deeply  from  the  first  mo 
ment.  She  was  the  daughter  of  well-to-do  and  respectable 
country  people,  who  had  cultivated  a  farm  on  the  Seekonk, 


*  "  The  Idle  Man."     New  York  :  John  Wiley,  1821. 

f  The  papers  of  "  The  Idle  Man  "  have  since  been  printed  in  Mr.  Dana's  col 
lected  works. 


THE  POET  IN  LOVE. 

a  tributary  of  Green  River,  but  who  were  now  dead,  hav 
ing  been  carried  off  almost  together  by  a  fever.*  Their  de 
mise  broke  up  the  household,  and  Fanny  became  alternately 
an  inmate  of  the  homes  of  her  married  sisters,  where  her  cheer 
ful  and  social  temper  and  unwearying  industry  made  her  an 
ever-welcome  guest.  She  was  in  the  nineteenth  year  of  her 
age,  "  a  very  pretty  blonde,  small  in  person,  with  light-brown 
hair,  gray  eyes,  a  graceful  shape,  a  dainty  foot,  transparent 
and  delicate  hands,  and  a  wonderfully  frank  and  sweet  expres 
sion  of  face."  The  poet  was  drawn  to  her  by  the  triple  attrac 
tions  of  her  orphanage,  her  good  sense,  and  her  loveliness ; 
but  the  depth  of  his  attachment  was  not  revealed  to  him  until 
the  object  of  it  was  called  to  accompany  a  sister  on  her  re 
moval  to  East  Bloomfield,  in  the  Genesee  Valley  of  New 
York.  It  was  then  an  extreme  limit  of  western  emigration, 
and  as,  in  default  of  canals,  railways,  and  steamboats,  her  jour 
ney  thither  was  made  in  high  covered  wagons,  over  bad  cor 
duroy  roads,  through  an  almost  unbroken  wilderness,  and 
often  exposed  to  the  molestations  of  wild  Indians  or  wilder 
white  borderers,  it  was,  of  course,  slow  and  tedious.  The 
prolonged  absence  it  required  awoke  her  timid  admirer  to  a 
painful  sense  of  his  loneliness.  He  began  to  pity  himself  very 
much  in  rhyme,  and  to  pour  out  little  ditties  of  complaint, 
yet  full  of  tender  recollections  and  yearnings.  These  are  too 
unpremeditated  and  personal  to  be  reproduced ;  but  I  may 
say  that  they  differ  much  from  the  strains  of  a  greener  age — 
are  calmer,  less  fluctuating,  more  assured  in  tone,  and  well 
represented  by  "  Oh,  Fairest  of  the  Rural  Maids ! "  which  is 
the  only  one  of  them  the  author  has  cared  to  print.f 

*  The  name  of  the  mother's  family  was  Pope,  and  it  was  connected  in  some  way 
with  Alexander  Pope,  the  poet. 

f  Poetical  Works,  vol.  i,  p.  39.     Of  the  others,  the  following  may  be  given  as  a 
specimen  : 

"  Though  summer  sun  and  freshening  shower 
Have  decked  my  love's  deserted  bower, 
Though  bees  about  the  threshold  come 
Among  the  scented  blooms  to  hum, 


1 68  THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 

On  the  return  of  Miss  Fairchild  from  the  West,  the  young 
couple  engaged  themselves  to  be  married  ;  and  how  earnestly 
and  seriously  they  entered  into  the  new  relation  is  shown  by 
a  prayer,  which  they  seem  to  have  uttered  together  as  a  sort 
of  betrothal  vow  to  God.  It  was  found  among  Mr.  Bryant's 
papers,  never  having  been  read,  probably,  by  any  eyes  but 
theirs  until  after  his  death. 

"  May  Almighty  God  mercifully  take  care  of  our  happiness  here 
and  hereafter.  May  we  ever  continue  constant  to  each  other,  and 
mindful  of  our  mutual  promises  of  attachment  and  truth.  In  due 
time,  if  it  be  the  will  of  Providence,  may  we  become  more  nearly 
connected  with  each  other,  and  together  may  we  lead  a  long,  happy, 
and  innocent  life,  without  any  diminution  of  affection  till  we  die. 
May  there  never  be  any  jealousy,  distrust,  coldness,  or  dissatisfaction 
between  us — nor  occasion  for  any — nothing  but  kindness,  forbear 
ance,  mutual  confidence,  and  attention  to  each  other's  happiness. 
And  that  we  may  be  less  unworthy  of  so  great  a  blessing,  may  we 
be  assisted  to  cultivate  all  the  benign  and  charitable  affections  and 
offices  not  only  toward  each  other,  but  toward  our  neighbors,  the 
human  race,  and  all  the  creatures  of  God.  And  in  all  things  wherein 
we  have  done  ill,  may  we  properly  repent  our  error,  and  may  God 
forgive  us  and  dispose  us  to  do  better.  When  at  last  we  are  called  to 
render  back  the  life  we  have  received,  may  our  deaths  be  peaceful, 

Though  there  the  bindweed  climbs  and  weaves 
Her  spotted  veil  of  flowers  and  leaves  ; 
Though  sweet  the  spot,  I  cannot  bear 
To  gaze  a  single  instant  there. 

"  Ah,  there  no  longer  deigns  to  dwell 
The  peerless  One,  I  love  so  well, 
And  vainly  may  I  linger  near 
The  musick  of  her  step  to  hear, 
And  catch  from  spheres  of  azure  light 
The  glance  my  heart  has  proved  too  bright. 
Fair  is  the  spot — I  own  it  fair, 
But  cannot  look  an  instant  there. 
44  GREAT  BARRINGTON,  1819." 


HIS  MARRIAGE. 


169 


and  may  God  take  us  to  his  bosom.     All  which  may  he  grant  for  the 
sake  of  the  Messiah. 
44  GREAT  BARRINGTON,  1820." 

If  ever  solemn  supplication  to  heaven  was  answered  on 
earth,  this  one  assuredly  was,  by  a  long  life  of  reciprocal  love, 
esteem,  confidence,  and  helpfulness. 

On  the  nth  of  June,  1821,  they  were  married  at  the  house 
of  the  bride's  sister,  Mrs.  Henderson,*  and  a  few  days  later 
the  groom  communicated  to  his  mother  the  facts  and  embar 
rassments  of  the  occasion  in  this  whimsical  way :  f 

"  DEAR  MOTHER  :  I  hasten  to  send  you  the  melancholy  intelli 
gence  of  what  has  lately  happened  to  me. 

"  Early  on  the  evening  of  the  eleventh  day  of  the  present  month  I 
was  at  a  neighboring  house  in  this  village.  Several  people  of  both 
sexes  were  assembled  in  one  of  the  apartments,  and  three  or  four  oth 
ers,  with  myself,  were  in  another.  At  last  came  in  a  little  elderly  gen 
tleman,  pale,  thin,  with  a  solemn  countenance,  pleuritic  voice,  hooked 
nose,  and  hollow  eyes.  It  was  not  long  before  we  were  summoned  to 
attend  in  the  apartment  where  he  and  the  rest  of  the  company  were 
gathered.  We  went  in  and  took  our  seats;  the  little  elderly  gentle 
man  with  the  hooked  nose  prayed,  and  we  all  stood  up.  When  he  had 
finished,  most  of  us  sat  down.  The  gentleman  with  the  hooked  nose 
then  muttered  certain  cabalistical  expressions  which  I  was  too  much 
frightened  to  remember,  but  I  recollect  that  at  the  conclusion  I  was 
given  to  understand  that  I  was  married  to  a  young  lady  of  the  name 
of  Frances  Fairchild,  whom  I  perceived  standing  by  my  side,  and  I 

*  The  house  is  still  standing  in  Great  Barrington,  an  object  of  some  interest  to 
strangers.  Fifty-five  years  after  the  event  recorded  in  the  text,  Mr.  Bryant  and  one 
of  his  daughters  visited  the  place.  He  walked  about  it  for  some  time,  saying 
nothing ;  but,  as  he  was  about  to  turn  away,  he  exclaimed  :  "  There  is  not  a  spire  of 
grass  her  foot  has  not  touched,"  and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears.  1 1  is  wife  had  then 
been  dead  nearly  ten  years. 

\  It  was  Mr.  Bryant's  duty,  as  town  clerk,  to  publish  the  bans  of  marriage  in 
the  church,  which  was  generally  done  by  reading  them  aloud  ;  but  in  his  own  case 
he  pinned  the  required  notice  on  the  door  of  the  vestibule  and  kept  carefully  out  of 
sight. 


THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 

hope  in  the  course  of  a  few  months  to  have  the  pleasure  of  intro 
ducing  to  you  as  your  daughter-in-law,  which  is  a  matter  of  some  in 
terest  to  the  poor  girl,  who  has  neither  father  nor  mother  in  the  world. 

"  I  have  not  '  played  the  fool  and  married  an  Ethiop  for  the  jewel 
in  her  ear.'*  I  looked  only  for  goodness  of  heart,  an  ingenuous  and 
affectionate  disposition,  a  good  understanding,  etc.,  and  the  character 
of  my  wife  is  too  frank  and  single-hearted  to  suffer  me  to  fear  that  I 
may  be  disappointed.  I  do  myself  wrong ;  I  did  not  look  for  these 
nor  any  other  qualities,  but  they  trapped  me  before  I  was  aware,  and 
now  I  am  married  in  spite  of  myself. 

"  Thus  the  current  of  destiny  carries  us  all  along.  None  but  a 
madman  would  swim  against  the  stream,  and  none  but  a  fool  would 
exert  himself  to  swim  with  it.  The  best  way  is  to  float  quietly  with 
the  tide.  So  much  for  philosophy — now  to  business.  .  .  . 

"  Your  affectionate  son,  WILLIAM." 

When  this  singular  epistle,  in  which  his  pride  seems  to  be 
awkwardly  seeking  excuses  for  a  humiliating  surrender,  reached 
the  good  mother,  she  is  said  to  have  exclaimed :  "  He  make  a 
fool  of  himself !  He  never  has  done  so  yet,  and  couldn't  if  he 
tried." 

A  few  months  after  his  marriage,  Mr.  Bryant  was  surprised 
by  a  communication  from  the  Secretary  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa 
Society  of  Harvard  College,  Mr.  W.  J.  Spooner,  requesting 
him,  "  by  a  unanimous  vote  of  the  fraternity,"  to  deliver  the 
usual  poetical  address  at  the  next  Commencement.  At  first 
he  shrank  from  the  task,  but  at  length  consented  to  under 
take  it,  although  with  many  misgivings  and  doubts.  In  his 
answer  to  Mr.  Spooner,  April  26th,  he  said : 

"  SIR  :  The  honor  thus  conferred  upon  me  is  as  unlocked  for  as  it 
is  flattering;  I  did  not  even  know  that  I  was  a  member  of  your  soci 
ety  till  I  was  informed  of  it  by  your  letter.  I  have  concluded  to  ac 
cept  the  appointment,  and  discharge  myself  of  it  as  well  as  I  can. 

"  I  have  never  attended  an  anniversary  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  So- 

*  An  expression  used  in  a  previous  letter  of  his  sister. 


VISIT   TO  BOSTON.  !7! 

ciety,  and  must  profess  myself  entirely  unacquainted  with  the  order 
of  proceedings  on  that  occasion.  Of  the  general  character  of  the 
performances  I  know  only  so  much  as  might  be  gathered  from  reading 
a  few  of  them  which  have  occasionally  fallen  in  my  way.  As  you 
have  kindly  offered  to  give  me  any  information  I  may  desire  on  these 
subjects,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  you  if  you  will  mark  out  for  me  such  a 
brief  general  outline  as  may  prevent  me  from  doing  anything  outrt or 
getting  foul  of  an  interdicted  subject." 

Mr.  Spooner  responded  in  several  pages,  instructing  him 
as  to  the  sort  of  address  expected  of  him,  the  probable  com 
position  of  the  audience,  the  time,  place,  and  manner  of  de 
livery,  and  hinting  also  at  the  success  or  non-success  of  former 
poets.  Mr.  Willard  Phillips  wrote  him  a  long  epistle  of  ad 
monition,  particularly  urging  him  to  pay  attention  to  his  elo 
cution.  In  Mr.  Phillips's  opinion  nearly  everything  depended 
upon  that ;  and  he  thought  that  an  indifferent  poem,  if  it  could 
be  spoken  in  a  fine  manner,  would  achieve  an  undoubted  suc 
cess. 

During  the  summer  the  leisure  left  him  by  his  professional 
work  was  devoted  to  the  preparation  of  this  poem,  which  he 
found  more  of  a  labor  than  he  had  anticipated.  "  The  compo 
sition  of  my  address,"  he  wrote  to  a  friend,  "  owing  partly  to 
my  having  written  but  little,  and  partly  to  the  difficulty  of 
the  stanza  I  have  selected  (the  Spenserian),  has  come  near  to 
making  me  sick."  Nevertheless,  it  was  finished,  and  in  Au 
gust  he  went  to  Boston  to  fulfil  his  engagement.  It  was  his 
first  visit,  of  which  we  have  any  account,  to  a  much-longed- 
for  city,  and  it  would  be  pleasing  to  learn  his  impressions  of  it 
and  its  people.  But  the  following  letter,  addressed  to  his 
wife,  August  2  5th,  is  the  only  one  preserved  out  of  his  corre 
spondence  of  the  time,  and  I  give  it  at  length  as  characteristic : 

"  MY  DEAR  FRANCES  :  You  observed  in  what  an  elegant  style  I 
went  from  Great  Barrington  to  Sheffield.  Seated  on  a  rough  board 
laid  on  the  top  of  a  crazy  wagon,  whose  loose  sides  kept  swinging 
from  right  to  left,  with  a  colored  fellow  at  my  right  hand  and  a 


i;2  THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 

dirty  old  rascal  before  me  who  kept  spitting  all  the  way.  I  was 
jolted  over  a  road  that  filled  my  mouth  and  ears  and  clothes  with 
dust,  and  which  the  mulatto  observed  was  'very  much  like  de  des 
ert  of  Arabey.'  About  half  past  eleven  in  the  evening  we  arrived  at 
Hartford.  At  half  past  six  the  next  morning  I  was  on  my  way  to 
Boston,  and  about  twelve  o'clock  at  night  I  saw  the  rows  of  lamps 
along  the  great  western  avenue,  and  beyond  them  those  of  the  Cam 
bridge  and  Charleston  bridges.  We  entered  Boston  over  this  great 
western  avenue,  which  is  not  yet  finished.  I  am  now  at  Mrs.  Vose's. 
Yesterday,  in  the  afternoon,  Mr.  Phillips  called  on  me  in  a  chaise 
and  carried  me  to  Waltham.  We  passed  by  the  seat  of  Mr.  Otis, 
a  fine,  large  building  on  a  smooth,  round  eminence  a  little  distance 
from  the  road,  with  a  wood  on  the  west.  The  approach  to  it  was 
through  a  gravelled  road  of  about  an  eighth  of  a  mile  in  length, 
with  a  thick,  dark  row  of  trees  and  shrubbery  on  either  side.  He 
took  me  to  the  seat  of  Mr.  Lyman,  a  Boston  merchant,  who  has  ac 
quired  great  wealth  in  the  India  trade — the  father  of  that  Mr.  Lyman 
who  wrote  the  book  about  Italy.  It  is  a  perfect  paradise ;  Phillips 
tells  me  that  there  is  not  a  country-seat  in  the  United  States  on  which 
so  much  expense  has  been  laid  out.  The  owner  is  continually  en 
gaged  in  making  improvements  and  alterations,  the  annual  cost  of 
which  is  not  less  than  twenty  thousand  dollars.  The  house  is  a  hand 
some  building,  shaded  with  exotic  trees — the  mountain-ash  of  Europe, 
with  its  large,  numerous  cymes  of  red  berries;  the  English  beech, 
with  its  smooth,  lead-colored  stem  and  purple  foliage.  Here  I  saw 
the  Chinese  sumach — a  sort  of  apple-tree — which  Phillips  called  the 
crab-apple,  a  pretty  tree  loaded  with  fruit  of  a  delicate  light  yellow 
ish-red  color,  about  twice  the  size  of  a  thornberry,  and  various  other 
shrubs  whose  names  I  did  not  learn.  In  front  of  the  house  to  the 
south  was  an  artificial  piece  of  water  winding  about  and  widening 
into  a  lake  with  a  little  island  of  pines  in  it,  an  elegant  bridge  cross 
ing  it,  and  swans  swimming  on  the  surface.  A  hard-rolled  walk  by 
the  side  of  a  brick  wall  about  ten  feet  in  height,  and  covered  with 
peach  and  apricot  espaliers  which  seemed  to  grow  to  it,  like  the  creep 
ing  sumach  to  the  bark  of  an  elm,  led  us  to  a  grove  of  young  forest- 
trees  on  the  top  of  an  eminence  in  the  midst  of  which  was  a  Chinese 
temple.  North  of  the  house  was  a  park  with  a  few  American  deer  in 
it,  and  a  large  herd  of  spotted  deer — a  beautiful  animal  imported  from 


"  THE  AGES." 


'73 


Bengal.  We  visited  the  green-house.  Here  were  pine-apples  grow 
ing.  The  rafters  were  covered  with  the  grape-vine  of  Europe,  whose 
clusters  were  nearly  ripe.  Here  was  the  American  aloe,  whose  ensi- 
form  leaves  are  as  thick  and  as  large  as  I  am,  a  species  of  datura 
with  large,  white  flowers  the  size  of  a  half-pint  tumbler,  and  a  thou 
sand  other  curious  matters.  More  than  a  hundred  acres  lie  about 
this  seat  without  any  enclosure,  most  of  which  is  fine,  smooth  turf, 
with  occasional  corn-fields.  We  took  tea  at  Mr.  Lyman's  with  sev 
eral  agreeable  ladies.  They  said  there  was  some  elegant  poetry  in 
the  last  l  Idle  Man.'  *  Phillips  has  seen  my  thing,f  and  tells  me  it 
will  go  well. 

"  Your  affectionate  husband, 

"W.  C.  BRYANT." 

Mr.  Bryant,  during  this  visit,  not  only  formed  the  acquaint 
ance  of  the  Danas,  Channings,  and  others  connected  with 
"The  North  American  Review,"  for  which  he  had  written, 
and  with  several  of  whom  he  corresponded,  but  he  must  have 
been  introduced  to  the  professors  of  the  college  and  to  many 
distinguished  visitors.  Allston  was  there,  fresh  from  his  inti 
macy  with  Coleridge ;  Sully,  of  Philadelphia,  was  there,  en 
gaged  temporarily  in  his  art,  and  hosts  of  others — statesmen 
and  lawyers  of  eminence — the  Adamses,  Quincys,  Pickering, 
Story,  Mason,  and  Webster ;  but  of  these  he  says  not  a  word. 
That  he  enjoyed  his  intercourse  with  persons  at  once  conspic 
uous  and  congenial  we  know  from  his  later  reminiscences; 
but  the  letter  to  his  wife  makes  no  mention  of  them,  though 
it  evinces  a  lively  interest  in  the  horticulture  of  the  environs 
of  Boston.  The  beautiful  results  of  art  in  the  adornment  of 
the  earth's  surface  were  new  to  him,  hitherto  familiar  Only 
with  the  wild  beauties  of  the  hills,  and  he  made  the  most  of 
his  opportunities. 

His  poem  called  "  The  Ages,"  a  rapid  survey  of  the  gen 
eral  progress  of  mankind  in  virtue  and  knowledge,  was,  on 


*  This  refers  to  his  own  pieces, 
f  I.  e.,  his  poem. 


174 


THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 


the  whole,  a  marked  success.  The  newspapers  of  the  day 
make  little  reference  to  it,  as  it  was  not  their  habit  then  to 
speak  of  such  things ;  *  but  there  are  several  persons  still  liv 
ing  who  remember  it  very  well.  Mr.  Emerson  was  one  of  the 
class  of  that  year,  and  I  endeavored  to  get  him  to  revive  his 
impressions  of  the  occasion,  but,  unfortunately,  he  was  not  in  a 
state  of  health  to  enable  him  to  comply  with  my  request.f 
Mr.  John  C.  Gray,  however,  the  orator  of  the  day,  although 
now  in  the  eighty -eighth  year  of  his  age,  has  a  distinct  recol 
lection  of  all  that  occurred.  "  Mr.  Bryant  and  I  were  to 
gether,"  he  writes,  "  in  the  same  pulpit,  in  the  old  Congrega 
tional  Church,  where  the  services  were  held.  Mr.  Bryant  was 
extremely  modest  and  unassuming  in  his  deportment.  As  I 
had  closed  my  part  of  the  duty,  and  was  near  him,  I  could  lis 
ten  attentively  and  hear  every  word.  I  said  to  myself  at  the 
time,  '  If  Everett  had  read  this  poem,  what  a  sensation  it 
would  have  produced ! '  It  was  read  quietly,  and  perhaps 
with  some  monotony  of  manner,  so  that  unless  one  gave  a 
close  attention,  it  did  not  produce  its  full  effect.  As  a  general 
thing,  works  of  this  kind,  grave  and  thoughtful  in  substance, 
are  not  appreciated  at  the  moment;  but  persons  of  discern 
ment,  who  followed  the  thought  without  requiring  an  effect 
ive  or  powerful  manner,  or  a  clear  and  strong  delivery,  felt 
that  Mr.  Bryant's  poem  was  an  uncommon  production.  It 
placed  him,  as  I  thought,  at  the  very  head  of  American  poets 
— and  there  has  been,  as  I  still  think,  his  rightful  place  ever 
since.  The  audience  was  a  distinguished  one — a  formidable 
one  for  a  young  man  to  front — John  Quincy  Adams,  Timothy 
Pickering,  John  Lowell,  Drs.  Channing  and  Kirkland,  Ever- 

*  The  Boston  "  Daily  Advertiser"  of  August  3 1st  has-simply  the  following  notice  : 
"  PHI  BETA  KAPPA. — The  anniversary  of  this  society  was  celebrated  yesterday. 
The  public  oration  was  delivered  by  John  C.  Gray,  Esq.,  and  the  poem  by  William 
C.  Bryant,  Esq.  These  interesting  performances  commanded  the  deep  attention, 
and  received  the  high  approbation,  of  a  very  numerous  and  select  audience." 

\  Mr.  Emerson,  I  think,  must  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  poet,  as  I  find 
little  notes  of  introduction,  etc.,  from  him  to  Mr.  B.,  written  not  long  afterward. 


EIGHT  POEMS  PUBLISHED.  ^5 

ett,  Dana,  Shaw,  and  a  multitude  of  others  that  are  not  often 
gathered  in  these  days."  Another  contemporary,  the  vener 
able  and  accomplished  Miss  Eliza  Susan  Quincy,  daughter 
and  sister  of  a  Josiah  Quincy,  recalls  Mr.  Bryant's  appearance 
and  address  in  a  letter  in  which  she  says : 

"  There  was  a  crowded  audience  in  the  ancient  church.  Mr.  Bry 
ant's  appearance  was  pleasing,  refined,  and  intellectual ;  his  manner 
was  calm  and  dignified  ;  and  he  spoke  with  ease  and  clearness  of 
enunciation.  There  was  no  attempt  at  oratorical  display ;  but,  con 
sidering  the  grave  and  elevated  tone  of  the  poem,  it  excited  more  re 
peated  tributes  of  applause  than  could  have  been  anticipated,  and  the 
last  stanza  rendered  these  testimonies  of  approbation  vehement.  A 
few  days  aftenvard  Mr.  Isaac  P.  Davis,  a  man  noted  for  his  very  gen 
eral  acquaintance  in  society,  during  a  visit  to  Quincy,  informed  me 
that  Mr.  Bryant's  poem  was  generally  considered  the  finest  that  had 
ever  been  spoken  before  the  Phi  Beta  Society." 

It  was,  in  fact,  considered  so  good  by  his  immediate  friends 
— the  Danas,  Channings,  Allston,  etc. — that  they  would  not  hear 
of  his  quitting  Boston  until  he  had  consented  to  the  publica 
tion  of  it,  and  of  what  else  he  had  done  in  a  poetical  way.  He 
immediately  proceeded  to  put  his  few  pieces  together,  and  the 
proofs  reached  Great  Barrington  a  few  days  after  his  return 
— the  new  volume  itself  in  a  few  weeks.  It  can  hardly,  how 
ever,  be  called  a  volume ;  it  was  a  small  pamphlet  of  only 
forty-four  pages,  containing  eight  poems  in  all — "  The  Ages," 
"  To  a  Waterfowl,"  "  The  Fragment  from  Simonides,"  "  The 
Inscription  for  the  Entrance  to  a  Wood,"  "  The  Yellow  Violet," 
"The  Song,"  "Green  River,"  and  "  Thanatopsis " — but  such 
poems  as  had  never  before  appeared  in  American  literature. 
Brief  as  they  were,  and  few  as  they  were,  they  were  yet  of  a 
kind  to  make  a  reputation ;  and,  if  the  author  had  never  written 
another  line,  his  name  would  have  been  remembered  with  de 
light  and  honor  for  many  years  to  come.  Dana,  in  forwarding 
the  poems,  scolded  him  roundly  for  certain  changes,  not  now 
to  be  guessed,  that  he  had  made  in  his  text. 


176  THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 

"  I  send  you  a  copy  of  your  poems,"  he  said,  under  date  of  Cam 
bridge,  September  8,  1821,  "as  a  glass  for  you  to  look  into  and  see 
how  handsome  you  are  in  print.  '  We  three ' — Mr.  Channing,  my 
brother,  and  I — have  taken  a  liberty  with  you,  at  which,  I  trust,  you 
will  not  be  offended.  If  you  should  be,  our  support  under  your  in 
dignation  would  be,  that  we  surfer  in  a  good  cause.  We  have  pub 
lished  '  The  Yellow  Violet '  as  you  first  wrote  it,  as  also  the  line,  *  Shall 
come  and  make  their  bed  with  thee ' ;  and  '  The  Barcan  Desert  pierce.' 
What  could  have  induced  you  to  change  *  the  sweet  babe  '  for  that  line 
and  a  half?  As  to  *  the  pale  realms  of  shade,'  a  little  after,  it  is  utterly 
abominable.  Nothing  in  the  Elysian  fields  worse  than  it.  As  you 
first  wrote  it,  nothing  could  have  been  more  simple  and  solemn,  and 
the  objection  made  to  the  *  to  earth  '  seemed  to  me  at  the  time  a  hyper- 
criticism.  At  any  rate,  I  shall  be  glad  to  know  what  the  caravan  and 
1  shade  '  all  mean  now.  Could  I  but  have  found  your  rough  draft,  we 
should  have  had  your  *  sweet  babe '  and  the  old  caravan  brought  back 
to  their  proper  places  without  a  moment's  hesitation.  I  believe  that 
a  poet  should  not  be  allowed  to  alter  in  cold  blood ;  he  grows  finical. 
'  Make  their  bed  with  thee'  is  scriptural  and  holy;  the  alteration  was 
neither  good  nor  bad.  Opposed  as  Mr.  C.  and  I  were  to  the  change 
of  'The  Yellow  Violet,'  we  read  original  and  alteration  to  my  brother 
twice  over,  and  he  said  that  it  would  be  a  sin  in  us  to  allow  the  change, 
as  it  was  in  our  power  to  prevent  it,  and  that  the  town  atmosphere  must 
have  got  into  your  upper  regions  when  you  made  that  and  the  other 
changes.  He  was  very  sorry  he  did  not  see  you  before  you  left,  and 
would  have  been  at  home  had  he  known  you  were  to  leave  before  one 
o'clock.  In  good  earnest,  my  dear  sir,  I  am  fearful  that  your  feelings 
may  be  wounded  by  what  we  have  done,  and  I  wished  my  hands  washed 
of  the  affair  more  than  once.  Yet  I  acted  from  the  most  thorough  con 
viction  that  your  poems  would  be  injured  by  what  you  intended  doing. 
And  when  you  come,  by  and  by,  to  read  over  those  alterations  which 
we  could  not  put  out,  you  will  regret  that  it  was  out  of  our  power. 
Forgive  me  the  liberty  I  took  part  in,  and  I  will  forgive  you  your  sad 
alterations,  and  we  will  shake  hands." 


Mr.  Bryant,  so  far  from  being  offended  by  the  restorations, 
was  thankful  for  them,  and  in  his  reply  to  Dana  says : 


THE  EARLIEST  CRITICISM.  ,77 

"  Yours  of  the  8th  I  received  day  before  yesterday,  and  to-day  the 
copy  of  my  poems.  I  am  infinitely  obliged  to  you  for  the  trouble  you 
have  taken  with  them,  and  submit  as  quietly  as  you  could  wish  to  your 
restoration  of  the  altered  passages.  As  to  *  the  pale  realms  of  shade,' 
I  have  not  a  word  to  say  in  its  defence.  I  dislike  it  as  much  as  you 
can,  and  I  had  a  secret  misgiving  of  heart  when  I  wrote  it.  I  am  now 
engaged  with  all  my  might  in  reviewing  your  book,  '  The  Idle  Man,' 
and  will  send  on  the  fruit  of  my  labors  soon.  ...  I  am  glad  you  do 
not  mean  to  be  discouraged  by  any  symptoms  of  coldness  with  which 
the  public  have  received  it  at  New  York.  If  it  goes  off  well  in  Bos 
ton,  and  at  the  South,  there  is  no  fear  that  it  will  not  soon  do  well 
enough  in  New  York.  The  fires  kindled  at  both  ends  of  the  pile  will 
meet  at  last  and  be  hottest  in  the  middle.  .  .  . 

"  In  the  mean  time,  I  send  you  something  of  my  own  for  your  next 
number.  It  is  a  poem  which  I  found  unfinished  among  my  papers 
on  my  return  from  Boston,  and  added  the  latter  half  of  it  on  purpose 
for  your  work.  You  see  my  head  runs  upon  the  Indians.  The  very 
mention  of  them  once  used  to  make  me  sick,  perhaps  because  those 
who  undertook  to  make  a  poetical  use  of  them  made  a  terrible  butchery 
of  the  subject.  I  think,  however,  at  present,  a  great  deal  might  be 
done  with  them.  You  may  give  what  name  you  please  to  my  poem."  * 

Mr.  Willard  Phillips  endeavored  to  help  his  young  friend 
along  by  printing  in  the  October  number  of  "  The  North 
American  "  an  elaborate  criticism  of  the  poems.  As  this  was 
the  earliest  printed  notice  they  received,  I  quote  a  part  of  it. 

"  Of  what  school  is  this  writer  ?  The  '  Lake,'  the  *  Pope,'  or  the 
'Cockney';  or  some  other?  Does  he  imitate  Byron,  or  Scott,  or 
Campbell?  These  are  the  standing  interrogatories  in  all  tribunals 
having  the  jurisdiction  of  poetry,  and  it  behooves  us  to  see  that 
they  are  administered.  He  is,  then,  of  the  school  of  Nature,  and 
of  Cowper,  if  we  may  answer  for  him ;  of  the  school  which  aims 
to  express  fine  thoughts,  in  true  and  obvious  English,  without 
attempting  or  fearing  to  write  like  any  one  in  particular,  and  with 
out  being  distinguished  for  using  or  avoiding  any  set  of  words  or 

*  Mr.  Dana  called  it  "  A  WTalk  at  Sunset."     See  Poetical  Works,  vol.  i,  p.  43. 
VOL.  i. — 13 


178  THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 

phrases.  It  does  not,  therefore,  bring  any  system  into  jeopardy  to 
admire  him,  and  his  readers  may  yield  themselves  to  their  spon 
taneous  impressions  without  an  apprehension  of  deserting  their 
party. 

"  There  is  running  through  the  whole  of  this  little  collection  a 
strain  of  pure  and  high  sentiment,  that  expands  and  lifts  up  the  soul, 
and  brings  it  nearer  to  the  source  of  moral  beauty.  This  is  not  in 
definitely  and  obscurely  shadowed,  but  it  animates  bright  images  and 
clear  thoughts.  There  is  everywhere  a  simple  and  delicate  portraiture 
of  the  subtle  and  ever-vanishing  beauties  of  Nature,  which  she  seems 
willing  to  conceal  as  her  choicest  things,  and  which  none  but  minds 
the  most  susceptible  can  seize,  and  no  other  than  a  writer  of  great 
genius  can  body  forth  in  words.  There  is  in  this  poetry  something 
more  than  mere  painting.  It  does  not  merely  offer  in  rich  colors 
what  the  eye  may  see  or  the  heart  feels,  or  what  may  fill  the  imagina 
tion  with  a  religious  grandeur.  It  does  not  merely  rise  to  sublime 
heights  of  thought,  with  the  forms  and  allusions  that  obey  none  but 
master  spirits.  Besides  these,  there  are  wrought  into  the  composition 
a  luminous  philosophy  and  deep  reflection,  that  make  the  subjects  as 
sensible  to  the  understanding  as  they  are  splendid  to  the  imagination. 
There  are  no  slender  lines  and  unmeaning  epithets,  or  words  loosely 
used  to  fill  out  the  measure.  The  whole  is  of  rich  materials,  skilfully 
compacted.  A  throng  of  ideas  crowds  every  part,  and  the  reader's 
mind  is  continually  and  intensely  occupied  with  'the  thick-coming 
fancies.' " 

Many  persons,  even  his  father's  friend,  Mrs.  Lyman,  thought 
this  praise  exaggerated  and  undeserved.  Not  so,  Mr.  Gulian 
C.  Verplanck,  author  of  "  The  Bucktail  Bards  "  (1819),  a  po 
litical  satire,  and  of  several  discourses  that  had  already  made 
him  widely  known,  who  wrote  to  Mr.  Bryant,  October  4th,  in 
this  way : 

"  SIR  :  I  received  a  few  days  ago  a  copy  of  your  poems  from  your 
friend,  Mr.  R.  Dana.  You  will  see  how  highly  I  think  of  their  mer 
its  by  the  brief  criticism  in  the  paper  which  you  will  receive  with 
this.*  The  '  American  '  is  a  paper  of  extensive  circulation,  and  of 

*  The  New  York  "  American,''  October  4,  1821. 


MR.   VERPLANCK'S  OPINION. 

considerable  importance  in  our  State  politics  ;  it  is  edited  by  a  cousin 
of  mine,  who  now  and  then  indulges  me  with  the  use  of  his  editorial 
columns  for  other  purposes.  An  '  Anniversary  Discourse,'  which  I 
published  some  time  ago,  having,  by  better  luck  than  commonly 
falls  to  the  lot  of  such  publications,  just  reached  a  second  edition, 
I  have  taken  that  opportunity  to  make  some  corrections  and  add  a 
few  notes  and  illustrations.  I  beg  your  acceptance  of  a  copy. 

"  I  am,  with  respect,  yours,  etc., 

"G.  C.  VERPLANCK.' 

To  this  the  poet  answered  from  Great  Barrington,  October 
10,  1821  : 

"  GULIAN  C.  VERPLANCK,  Esq. : 

"  SIR  :  Yours  of  the  4th  inst.,  together  with  the  New  York  '  Ameri 
can  '  of  the  same  date,  and  a  copy  of  your  *  Anniversary  Discourse,' 
have  just  reached  me. 

"  I  had  before  seen  the  greater  part  of  your  Discourse  in  the 
shape  of  extracts  in  various  publications,  but  I  am  happy  in  an  op 
portunity  to  read,  in  its  original  connection,  the  whole  of  a  work  the 
free  and  liberal  spirit  of  which,  to  say  nothing  of  its  other  merits,  too 
generally  acknowledged  to  need  any  testimony  of  mine,  had  already 
so  much  interested  me. 

"  Whether  you  think  highly  of  my  poems  or  otherwise,  I  hope,  at 
least,  that  you  think  more  of  them  than  I  was  able  to  find  in  the  paper 
you  sent  me.  On  unfolding  it,  I  found  the  two  inside  pages  entirely 
blank,  through  some  blunder,  I  suppose,  of  the  press.  I  conclude, 
however,  from  the  intimation  in  your  letter,  that  the  notice  was  a  fa 
vorable  one,  and  I  am  grateful  for  the  assistance  afforded  me  at  a 
time  when  it  may  do  me  much  service. 

"  I  am,  sir,  with  much  respect,  yours,  etc., 

"W.  C.  BRYANT." 

At  length  a  more  perfect  copy  of  the  paper  arrived,  and 
Mr.  Bryant  was  gratified  to  see  his  merits  recognized  by  one 
who  held  an  acknowledged  position  in  literature  outside  of 
Boston.  Verplanck  discerned  at  once  the  quality  of  the  verses 
before  him,  and  he  spoke  in  the  warmest  terms  of  "  their  ex- 


l8o  THE  FIRST  COLLECTION  OF  POEMS. 

quisite  taste,  their  keen  relish  for  the  beauties  of  nature,  their 
magnificent  imagery,  and  their  pure  and  majestic  morality." 

His  little  venture  attracted  some  attention,  even  in  Eng 
land,  where  a  collection  of  "  Specimens  of  American  Poetry  " 
(Allman,  London,  1822),  made  by  Mr.  Roscoe,  brought  it  to 
the  notice  of  the  reviewers.  A  writer  in  "  Blackwood  "  (June, 
1822)  graciously  said :  "  Bryant  is  no  mean  poet;  and,  if  he  is 
a  young  man,  we  should  not  be  surprised  at  his  assuming,  one 
day  or  another,  a  high  rank  among  English  poets."  In  justifi 
cation  of  this  prophecy  the  critic  adduced  "  Thanatopsis"  and 
"The  Waterfowl,"  which  showed  "  really  superior  powers." 
This  recognition,  however,  did  not  prevent  "  Blackwood,"  two 
years  later,  from  taking  all  its  praises  back,  in  an  article  which 
denied  "  the  existence  of  anything  like  American  literature  or 
American  authors."  "  All  their  writers  are  but  feeble  dilu 
tions  of  English  originals.  Some  of  the  pieces  of  Bryant 
having  found  their  way  by  piecemeal  into  England,  and  hav 
ing  met  with  a  little  newspaper  praise,  which  was  repeated 
with  great  emphasis  in  America,  he  is  set  up  by  his  associates 
as  a  poet  of  extraordinary  promise ;  but  Mr.  Bryant  is  no 
more  than  a  sensible  young  man  of  a  thrifty  disposition,  who 
knows  how  to  manage  a  few  plain  ideas  in  a  handsome  way. 
'  The  Waterfowl/  though  beautiful,  has  no  more  poerty  in  it 
than  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  (!),  and  his  blank  verse  is  a 
mere  imitation  of  Milman,"  which  was  a  curious- sort  of  imita 
tion,  seeing  that  his  blank  verse  anticipated  Milman's  by  some 
years.*  The  "  Retrospective  Review  "  took  the  same  tone,  and, 
after  admitting  that  "Mr.  Bryant  stood  at  the  head  of  the 
American  Parnassus,"  found  that  "  he  copied  Lord  Byron  in 
his  Spenserian  stanzas,  and  in  his  blank  verse  reminds  us  at 
once  both  of  Cowper  and  Wordsworth." 

Strictures  like  these,  however  much  they  may  have  been 
deserved  in  times  past,  were  getting  to  be  no  longer  pertinent. 
A  new  life,  full  of  the  richest  promise,  was  already  begun  in 

*  "Blackwood,"  September,  1824. 


A  LITERARY  SPRINGTIME.  jgi 

this  country.  The  year  embraced  in  this  chapter,  which  saw 
the  publication  of  Mr.  Bryant's  little  volume,  belonged  to  a 
significant  and  notable  time  in  our  literary  annals.  It  was 
then  that  Cooper  published  his  "  Spy  " ;  Washington  Irving 
his  "  Sketch  Book  "  and  "  Bracebridge  Hall  "  ;  I  lalleck  his 
"  Fanny  "  ;  Sands  and  Eastburn  their  "  Yamoyden  "  ;  Dana 
his  "  Idle  Man  "  ;  Hillhouse  his  "  Percy's  Masque  "  ;  Percival 
his  "  Prometheus  "  ;  Miss  Sedgwick  her  "  New  England  Tale  "  ; 
Channmg  his  earliest  essays  in  the  "  Christian  Disciple " ; 
Daniel  Webster  his  "  Plymouth  Oration  " ;  and  Edward  Liv 
ingston  his  "  Penal  Codes."  "  Many  voices  have  followed 
these,"  as  Bayard  Taylor  said  in  his  address  at  Halleck's 
grave ;  "  but  we  must  never  forget  the  forerunners,  who  were 
even  in  advance  of  their  welcome,  and  created  their  own 
audiences." 


CHAPTER   TENTH. 

THE     LAW    ABANDONED. 
A.    D.    1822-1824. 

IT  was  at  this  time,  I  am  disposed  to  believe,  that  Mr.  Bry 
ant's  political  opinions  underwent  certain  modifications  which 
it  is  important  to  notice.  He  was  still  a  Federalist,  attended 
the  meetings  of  his  party,  served  on  committees,  and,  when  ne 
cessary,  discussed  the  character  and  claims  of  candidates  for 
office  in  the  newspapers.*  But  a  great  change  had  been  going 

*  If  one  may  judge  from  the  following  jeu  d' esprit,  however,  found  among  his 
papers,  he  was  more  disposed  to  make  fun  of  the  politicians  in  general  than  to  take 
part  in  their  contests  : 

"  All  things  must  have  an  end — empires  and  thrones — 

Speeches  and  messages — though  ne'er  so  long — 
There  is  an  end  to  smiles,  an  end  to  groans, 

To  C 's  sermons  and  to  B 's  song. 

All  things  must  have  an  end — that  high  behest 

Has  brought  the  Sixteenth  Congress  to  its  close,  (a) 
And  packed  its  members  off  to  East  and  West, 

To  Florida  in  flowers  and  Maine  in  snows. 

"  Some  carry  home  the  unspoken  speech  again, 

Some  mourn  a  luckless  bill  td  its  long  sleep 
Untimely  sent,  as  dies  upon  the  plain 

The  tender  poppy  trod  by  huddling  sheep. 
Some  glory  to  have  proved  their  length  of  wind, 

Some  that  a  starveling  measure  struggled  through, 
One  sighing  statesman  leaves  his  heart  behind, 

Another,  some  cool  hundreds  lost  at  loo  ! 


(a)  The  Sixteenth  Congress  closed  March  3,  1821. 


CHANGE  OF  POLITICS.  ^3 

on  in  both  the  tone  and  direction  of  political  controversy  since 
the  days  of  his  young  enthusiasm  for  State  rights  and  rebel 
lion.  After  the  peace  of  1815  the  old  parties  were  more  or 
less  fused  or  extinguished,  and  a  period  of  quietude  followed, 
which,  during  the  administration  of  Monroe,  who  was  elected 
to  the  presidency  in  1821  by  an  almost  unanimous  vote,  was 
called  "  the  era  of  good  feeling."  New  questions  of  differ 
ence,  however,  arose  out  of  the  altered  circumstances  of  the 
nation.  A  considerable  manufacturing  interest  had  grown  up 
in  the  Northern  States  during  the  war  with  England,  which  at 
the  close  of  it  desired  to  be  continued.  The  conditions  of  peace 
revived  and  stimulated  more  active  interchanges  in  domestic 
commerce,  and  schemes  for  the  promotion  of  it  came  into  the 
ascendant.  The  Eastern  States  demanded  tariffs  to  shelter 
them  from  foreign  competition,  and  enlarged  harbors  for  their 
shipping ;  the  Western  States  wanted  highways  and  canals  to 
put  them  in  easier  communication  with  the  East ;  and  the 
South  was  not  backward  in  clamoring  for  such  internal  im 
provements  as  might  facilitate  the  access  of  their  crops  to  the 

"  Homeward  to  Boston  Webster  hies  to  breathe, 

Jove-like,  the  incense  that  in  every  nook 
Smokes  up  to  his  Olympus  from  beneath — 

With  clerkly  Everett,  who  his  trade  mistook —  (a) 
Shrewd  Woodbury  hastens  to  his  own  hearth-fire, 

And  Gorham  grave  and  Dwight  of  manners  bland, 
And  knowing  Anderson  and  Mclntyre, 

And  Burges  with  old  Lempriere  in  his  hand.(<£) 

"  And  Carolina  welcomes  Drayton  home, 

Hayne,  and  McDuffie  of  the  fearless  voice  ; 
And  in  the  news  that  White  and  Polk  are  come, 

The  gorgeous  vales  of  Tennessee  rejoice. 
But  there  the  wild-cat  in  the  depth  of  woods 

Trembles  to  feel  the  south  wind's  softer  breath, 
For  well  she  knows  that  with  the  opening  buds 

Crockett  returns,  whose  very  stare  is  death."  (c) 

(a)  Mr.  Everett  had  been  a  clergyman,  and  became  a  politician. 

(b)  Tristam  Burges,  of  Rhode  Island,  noted  for  his  classical  quotations. 

(c)  Davie  Crockett,  famous  for  his  eccentricittes  and  his  rifle. 


1 84  THE  LAW  ABANDONED. 

seaboard  cities  and  to  a  great  and  growing  inland  population. 
How  these  various  enterprises  should  be  fostered  and  sus 
tained  became  a  principal  object  of  legislative  solicitude. 

Mr.  Bryant,  during  this  lenten  time,  while  new  issues  were 
getting  into  shape,  devoted  his  leisure  to  studying  the  politi 
cal  history  of  his  country.  This  led  him  to  reconsider  the 
grounds  of  his  traditionary  opinions,  and  to  scrutinize  more 
closely  than  he  had  done  before  the  principles  and  tendencies 
of  various  past  and  dominant  parties.  His  attention  was  par 
ticularly  directed  to  the  doctrines  of  political  economy,  which, 
though  still  wearing  a  gloss  of  newness  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic,  were  in  much  favor  with  inquiring  and  independent 
minds  in  Europe.  His  friends  the  Sedgwicks,  like  himself  of 
Federal  affinities,  were  yet  disposed,  by  their  reading  and  re 
flections,  to  a  generous  hospitality  toward  conclusions  which 
the  treatises  of  Smith,  Say,  Thornton,  and  Ricardo,  but  espe 
cially  the  great  debates  in  the  British  Parliament  in  the  time 
of  Huskisson  (1820),  rendered  more  and  more  popular  in  Eu 
rope.  Theodore  Sedgwick,  indeed,  the  foremost  of  the  fam 
ily,  and  a  man  of  eminent  character  and  parts,  had  long  been 
a  decided  advocate  of  freedom  of  exchange.*  Either  following 

*  Mr.  Theodore  Sedgwick,  the  second  son  of  Judge  Theodore  Sedgwick,  who 
died  in  1813,  was  greatly  admired  by  Mr.  Bryant,  and  doubtless  exercised  consider 
able  influence  over  his  opinions  and  conduct.  In  a  memoir  of  this  distinguished 
friend,  written  for  "  Griswold's  Biographic  Annual "  in  1839,  ne  describes  him  as 
one  "  whose  character  deserves  to  be  held  up  to  the  imitation  of  all  men  engaged  in 
political  life,  or  in  public  controversies  of  any  kind.  He  was  a  man  of  many  virtues, 
but  he  enjoyed  one  distinction  of  difficult  attainment,  that  of  being  a  politician  with 
out  party  vices.  In  the  question  respecting  the  powers  of  government  and  the 
proper  objects  and  limits  of  human  laws,  he  took  part  with  great  zeal,  deeming  them 
highly  important  to  the  welfare  of  mankind  ;  yet  he  bore  himself  in  these  disputes 
with  such  manifest  sincerity,  disinterestedness,  and  philanthropy,  and  with  such  gen 
erosity  toward  his  adversaries,  as  to  make  them  regret  that  he  was  not  on  their  side. 
Nothing  could  excel  his  dislike  of  the  ignoble  ferocity  into  which  party  men  allow 
themselves  to  fall,  save  his  abhorrence  of  the  unmanly  practices  to  which  they  some 
times  resort.  It  is  with  a  feeling  of  deep  reverence  that  I  essay  to  speak  of  such  a 
man."  Further  on,  speaking  of  Mr.  Sedgwick' s  work,  entitled  "  Public  and  Private 
Economy,"  he  says  :  "  It  is  full  of  wise  and  just  views,  and  informed  by  a  warm  and 


STUDIES  POLITICAL  ECONOMY.  ^5 

his  lead  or  impelled  by  his  own  researches,  Mr.  Bryant  took 
the  same  view.  What  he  learned  from  these  sources  was,  that 
the  great  economic  movements  of  society,  or  the  complex  ac 
tions  by  which  human  wants  are  supplied,  are  as  uniform  and 
regular  as  any  other  aggregate  of  causes  and  effects,  or  that, 
if  they  vary,  it  is  within  calculable  limits:  in  other  words, 
that  social  phenomena  are  subject  to  laws  with  which  it  is 
injurious  to  interfere  in  any  artificial  manner.  But,  having 
arrived  at  this  fundamental  principle,  he  saw  that  it  carried 
with  it,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  readjustment  of  other  more 
general  political  notions.  He  observed  that  in  the  proceed 
ings  of  Congress,  where  economic  subjects  were  perpetually 
coming  up  in  one  shape  or  another,  the  leading  statesmen 
were  apt  to  take  position  in  regard  to  them  according  to  their 
proclivities  of  constitutional  doctrine.  Those  who  inclined  to 
a  protective  system  were  also  inclined,  or  bound  by  the  neces 
sities  of  the  case,  to  broad  constructions  of  the  powers  of  the 
national  Government,  while  those  who  were  emancipated  from 
old  economic  errors  were  as  earnestly  disposed  to  a  rigid  exe 
gesis.  It  was  pretty  evident,  therefore,  that,  while  he  was 
nominally  ranked  as  a  Federalist,  his  place,  when  parties 
should  divide  and  organize  on  economic  grounds,  would  be 
inevitably  on  the  side  of  the  Republicans. 

Mr.  Dana,  in  his  correspondence  with  Mr.  Bryant,  urges 
him  not  to  trouble  himself  about  such  questions,  but  to  un 
dertake  a  poem  of  greater  length  than  any  he  had  yet  writ 
ten.  "We  talk  of  you  a  great  deal  down  at  my  brother's," 
he  said,  "  and  want  you  to  write  a  poem  as  much  longer  than 

genuine  philanthropy.  Its  principal  design  was  to  promote  the  object  that  lay  near 
est  the  heart  of  the  author,  that  of  narrowing  more  and  more  the  limits  of  poverty, 
ignorance,  and  vice  among  his  countrymen,  of  inspiring  them  with  the  love  of  per 
sonal  independence,  giving  them  habits  of  reflection,  teaching  them  reverence  for 
one  another's  rights,  and  thus  bringing  about  that  equality  of  condition  which  is  the 
most  favorable  to  the  morals  and  happiness  of  society,  and  to  the  harmonious  work 
ing  of  our  institutions."  I  cannot  but  here  remark  that,  secluded  as  the  whole  of 
Mr.  Bryant's  early  life  was,  he  was  rarely  favored  by  the  enjoyment  of  intercourse 
with  such  men  as  Judge  Howe,  Mr.  Baylies,  and  the  several  Sedgwicks. 


1 86  THE  LAW  ABANDONED. 

'  The  Ages '  as  may  please  you.  Fix  upon  a  subject,  and  turn 
over  the  plan  in  your  mind  ;  get  as  full  of  the  matter  as  you 
have  leisure  to  be,  and  write  as  you  find  time."  Again,  in 
November,  he  renews  the  advice :  "  Have  you  turned  the 
matter  over  and  gathered  in  your  thoughts?.  There  are  men 
of  talents  enough  to  carry  on  the  common  world,  but  men  of 
genius  are  not  so  plenty  that  any  can  afford  to  be  idle,  neither 
can  any  man  tell  how  great  the  effect  of  a  work  of  genius  is 
in  the  course  of  time.  Set  about  it  in  good  earnest."  Mr. 
Bryant  did  not  set  about  it,  nor  take  any  notice  of  the  sug 
gestion.  With  all  the  fire  of  youth  in  him,  he  yet  despaired 
of  an  achievement  which  he  seemed  to  agree  with  a  later 
opinion  of  Poe  in  thinking  impossible  for  any  man — a  long 
poem  which  should  also  be  a  good  poem.* 

A  subject  of  much  public  excitement  at  the  time  was  the 
revolt  of  the  Greeks  from  the  tyrannic  and  cruel  rule  of  the 
Turks.  I  can  well  remember,  though  a  mere  child  then,  the 
depth  and  intensity  of  feeling  with  which  the  whole  commu 
nity,  even  the  children,  followed  the  incidents  of  the  heroic 
struggle  of  the  children  of  Leonidas  against  the  Moslem. 
How  we  pitied  and  extolled  the  Greeks,  and  how  we  exe 
crated  the  Turks !  The  same  enthusiasm  which  carried 
Byron  from  the  delights  of  Genoa  and  Venice  to  his  death 
bed  at  Missilonghi,  animated  a  large  number  of  our  young 
men,  who,  like  Dr.  Samuel  G.  Howe,  were  disposed  to  go  in 
person  to  the  assistance  of  the  oppressed.  Mr.  Bryant's  zeal 
never  attained  to  such  a  degree  of  warmth,  but  exhaled  in 
poetic  expressions  and  a  popular  address  on  the  Greek  Revo- 


*  Mr.  Bigelow,  in  his  memorial  address  to  the  Century  Club,  says  :  "  Like  Hor 
ace,  like  Burns,  like  Beranger,  but  unlike  most  other  poets  of  celebrity,  Bryant  never 
wrote  any  long  poems.  I  once  asked  him  why.  He  replied :  '  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  a  long  poem.'  His  theory  was  that  a  long  poem  was  as  impossible  as  a  long 
ecstasy  ;  that  what  is  called  a  long  poem,  like  '  Paradise  Lost '  and  the  '  Divine  Com 
edy,'  is  a  mere  succession  of  poems  strung  together  upon  a  thread  of  verse,  the 
thread  of  verse  serving  sometimes  to  popularize  them  by  adapting  them  to  a  wider 
range  of  literary  taste  or  a  more  sluggish  intellectual  digestion." 


THE  GREEK  REVOLUTION. 

hi  don.  These  were,  however,  of  service  in  keeping  sympathy 
alive  by  a  generous  intellectual  appreciation.  His  address, 
delivered  at  Great  Barrington  in  December,  1823,  is  marked 
by  impressive  thought  and  a  fine  manly  fervor,  rather  charac 
teristic  of  the  scholar  than  of  the  statesman.  His  love  for  the 
Greek  language  seems  to  have  diffused  itself  over  the  whole 
race  by  which  it  was  spoken.  "  Nothing  ignoble  or  worth 
less,"  he  assumed,  "  can  spring  from  so  generous  a  stock.  It 
was  in  Greece  that  civilization  had  its  origin,  and  the  grand 
impulse  which  she  communicated  to  the  human  mind  will  never 
cease  to  the  end  of  time.  It  was  there  that  poetry,  sculpture, 
all  the  great  arts  of  life,  were  invented  or  perfected,  and  first 
delivered  down  to  succeeding  generations.  Greece  was  the 
real  cradle  of  liberty  in  which  the  earliest  republics  were 
rocked.  We  are  the  pupils  of  her  great  men,  in  all  the  prin 
ciples  of  science,  of  morals,  and  of  good  government ;  her  gen 
ius,  in  short,  in  every  department  of  intellectual  creation,  has 
instructed,  overcome,  and  awed  the  world ;  she  preserved 
learning  and  religion  when  all  the  rest  of  Europe  was  a  prey 
to  barbaric  invasion,  and  the  world  owes  her  a  debt  of  grati 
tude  which  it  would  be  pusillanimous  to  forget,  or  to  fail  to 
return  in  heaping  measures  of  assistance  and  benefaction." 
Turning,  then,  to  the  present  condition  of  Greece,  he  painted 
in  pathetic  colors  her  martyrdoms  and  sufferings,  and  urged 
the  people,  almost  in  agonizing  tones,  to  rush  to  her  rescue 
and  relief. 

Mr.  Bryant  did  not  take  his  friend's  advice  in  regard  to  a 
long  poem  ;  but  what  he  did  set  about,  strange  to  say,  was  a 
farce  intended  for  the  stage.  It  is  uncertain  whether  he  had 
ever  seen  a  play  ;  and  his  genius,  though  not  devoid  of  a  sense 
of  humor,  was  hardly  of  a  comic  cast.  Yet  he  determined  to 
try  it  in  that  vein.  A  duel  having  been  recently  achieved  by 
two  Southern  Hotspurs,  under  preliminaries  and  conditions 
more  wiredrawn  than  even  Touchstone's  catalogue  of  the  de 
grees  of  courtly  punctilio,  he  thought  it  presented  an  admira 
ble  opportunity  for  bringing  the  practice  of  duelling  itself,  still 


1 88  THE  LAW  ABANDONED. 

popular  in  nearly  all  parts  of  the  country,  into  deserved  ridi 
cule.  He  therefore  tried  to  expose  it  to  irresistible  laughter. 
Of  this  piece,  called  "  The  Heroes,"  one  must  say,  as  Brummel 
said  of  his  cravats,  "  These  are  our  failures."  The  situations 
were  perhaps  funny  enough  ;  the  dialogue  was  brisk  with  rep 
artee,  and  the  characters  not  unamusing  in  their  mock-heroic 
eloquence  and  attitudes.  But,  as  a  whole,  it  was  illy  adapted 
to  representation.  His  good  friend,  Charles  Sedgwick,  to 
whom  the  play  was  communicated,  like  Lord  Burleigh,  shook 
his  dubious  locks.  He  thought  the  satire  effective,  but  doubt 
ed  whether  the  jokes  and  squibs  would  be  appreciated,  owing 
to  lapse  of  time.  Nevertheless,  he  was  willing  to  submit  the 
matter  to  his  brother  Henry,  who,  because  he  lived  in  New 
York,  was  supposed  to  be  a  better  judge,  and  it  was  sent  to 
him  for  decision.  The  arbitrator  gave  no  encouragement 
whatever  to  the  aspiring  dramatist.*  But  the  incident,  small 
in  itself,  had  important  effects.  Mr.  Henry  Sedgwick  saw 
enough  in  the  sketch  to  make  him  think  that,  if  Mr.  Bryant 
would  remove  to  the  city,  he  might,  perhaps,  run  a  successful 
career  as  a  writer  for  magazines.  Accordingly,  in  returning 
the  farce,  he  urged  a  consideration  of  the  subject  with  some 
degree  of  earnestness.  "The  time,"  he  wrote,  "is  peculiarly 
propitious  ;  the  Athenseum,  just  instituted  "  (a  library  and  read 
ing-room  since  merged,  I  think,  in  the  Society  Library),  "is 
exciting  a  sort  of  literary  rage,  and  it  is  proposed  to  set  up  a 
journal  in  connection  with  it.  Besides,  '  The  Atlantic  Maga 
zine,'  which  has  pined  till  recently,  is  beginning  to  revive  in 
the  hands  of  Henry  J.  Anderson,  who  has  a  taste  or  whim  for 
editorship,  and  he  unquestionably  needs  assistance.  Bliss  & 
White,  his  publishers,  are  liberal  gentlemen;  they  pay  him 

*  "  I  send  you  a  letter  from  New  York  about  the  farce,"  wrote  Charles  Sedgwick. 
"  Happily  for  me,  you  are  too  well  acquainted  with  the  opinions  of  the  Sedgwick 
tribe  to  take  in  dudgeon  Mr.  Harry's  free  sayings  about  it.  To  tell  you  the  truth, 
I  was  rather  amused  by  his  surprise  at  seeing  a  farce  written  by  you,  and  by  his 
comparisons  on  the  subject,  and,  as  I  could  send  you  his  letter  easier  than  tell  what 
he  said,  I  do  so." 


A    TRIP    TO  NEW  YORK.  189 

$500  a  year,  and  authorize  an  expenditure  of  $500  more.  Any 
deficiencies  of  salary,  moreover,"  Mr.  Sedgwick  adds,  "  may 
be  eked  out  by  teaching  foreigners,  of  whom  there  are  many 
in  New  York,  eager  to  learn  our  language  and  literature.  In 
short,  it  would  be  strange  if  you  could  not  succeed  where 
anybody  and  everything  succeeds."  The  prospects  thus  pre 
sented,  it  must  be  confessed,  were  not  brilliant  or  alluring,  but 
Mr.  Sedgwick's  zeal  was  sufficiently  persuasive  to  induce 
Mr.  Bryant  to  make  a  flying  visit  to  the  metropolis  on  a 
prospecting  tour,  as  the  miners  would  say.  Writing  to  his 
wife  of  his  arrival,  under  date  of  New  York,  April  24,  1824, 
he  says  nothing  of  his  objects,  yet  glances  at  a  few  note 
worthy  persons : 

"  MY  DEAR  FRANCES:  I  have,  on  the  whole,  made  up  my  mind 
not  to  come  home  this  week.  The  weather  has  been  so  bad  that  I 
have  seen  little  of  the  city  as  yet,  and,  as  there  is  no  knowing  when  I 
shall  be  here  again,  I  think  I  had  better  take  time  to  look  about  me 
before  I  leave  the  place.  ...  I  dined  yesterday  at  Mr.  Robert  Sedg 
wick's  in  a  company  of  authors — Mr.  Cooper,  the  novelist ;  Mr.  Hal- 
leek,  author  of  '  Fanny  ' ;  Mr.  Sands,  author  of  '  Yamoyden  ' ;  Mr. 
Johnson,  the  reporter  (of  the  Court  of  Appeals),  and  some  other  lit 
erary  gentlemen.  Mr.  Cooper  engrossed  the  whole  conversation,  and 
seems  a  little  giddy  with  the  great  success  his  works  have  met  with. 
Hier,  au  soir  nous  allames,  Mons.  Ives  et  mot,  chez  une  famille  Fran- 
faise,  ou  nous  jouames  an  whist  ct  par  lames  Fran^aise  tout  le  temps*1  .  .  . 
I  got  in  on  Sunday  morning  at  five  o'clock,  and  heard  two  sermons 
from  Parson  Ware,  and  very  good  ones  too.  Tuesday  we  had  Sparks, 
editor  of  the  '  North  American  Review,'  to  dine  with  us — a  man  of 
very  agreeable  manners ;  he  was  on  his  way  to  Boston  from  Balti 
more.  Please  to  tell  Dr.  Leavenworth,  if  I  do  not  get  home  before 
Monday,  to  make  my  apology  to  the  world,  and  get  somebody  to  take 
down  the  votes  for  me  f  and  make  the  proper  memorandums.  Good- 

*  These  scraps  of  French  hide  no  secrets,  and  are  retained  only  to  show  a  habit, 
which  Mr.  Bryant  long  followed,  of  writing  a  part  of  his  familiar  notes  to  his  family 
in  the  language  which  they  happened  to  be  learning  at  the  time. 

f  I.  e.,  as  town  clerk. 


190 


THE  LA  W  ABANDONED. 


by — Baisez  la  petite  Fanchette  pour  moi — and  give  my  regards  to  the 
family.  Your  affectionate  husband, 

"WM.  C.  BRYANT." 

It  was  to  this  visit,  doubtless,  Miss  C.  M.  Sedgwick  refers 
in  a  letter  from  New  York  to  her  brother  Charles  at  Lenox  :  * 

"  We  have  had  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,"  she  says, "  from  a  glimpse 
of  Bryant.  I  never  saw  him  so  happy,  nor  half  so  agreeable.  I  think 
he  is  very  much  animated  with  his  prospects.  Heaven  grant  that 
they  may  be  more  than  realized.  I  sometimes  feel  some  misgivings 
about  it ;  but  I  think  it  is  impossible  that,  in  the  increasing  demand 
for  native  literature,  a  man  of  his  resources,  who  has  justly  the  first 
reputation,  should  not  be  able  to  command  a  competency.  He  has 
good  sense,  too,  good  judgment,  and  moderation,  and  never  was  a 
man  blessed  in  a  warmer  friend  than  he  has  in  Harry ;  and  besides 
Harry  there  are  many  persons  here  who  enter  warmly  into  his  cause. 
He  seems  so  modest  that  every  one  is  eager  to  prove  to  him  the 
merit  of  which  he  is  unconscious.  I  wish  you  had  seen  him  last  even 
ing.  Mrs.  Nicholas  was  here,  and  half  a  dozen  gentlemen.  She  was 
ambitious  to  recite  before  Bryant.  She  was  very  becomingly  dressed 
for  the  grand  ball  to  which  she  was  going,  and,  wrought  up  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  excitement,  she  recited  her  favorite  pieces  better  than 
I  have  ever  heard  her,  and  concluded  the  whole,  without  request  or 
any  note  of  preparation,  with  'The  Waterfowl*  and  'Thanatopsis.' 
Bryant's  face  *  brightened  all  over,'  was  one  gleam  of  light,  and,  I  am 
certain,  at  the  moment  he  felt  the  ecstasy  of  a  poet." 

Without  abandoning  his  profession,  on  his  return  from  this 
visit  he  devoted  himself  to  literary  work  with  more  earnest 
ness  than  he  had  ever  before  displayed.  The  "  North  Ameri 
can,"  having  rejected  a  critique  of  his  on  the  "  Idle  Man,"  was 
closed  to  him  ;  f  but  a  new  field  had  been  opened  by  the  timely 

*  This  letter  is  dated  in  February,  1822  ("  Life  and  Letters  of  C.  M.  Sedgwick," 
by  Mary  E.  Dewey)  ;  but  I  can  find  no  evidence  of  Mr.  Bryant's  having  been  in 
New  York  during  that  year. 

f  Mr.  Phillips  having  invited  him  to  write  a  review  of  the  book,  he  complied. 
But  in  the  interval,  and  before  his  article  arrived,  the  editorship  of  the  Review  was 


A  REJECTED  ARTICLE.  !91 

establishment  "in  Boston  of  the  "  United  States  Literary  Ga 
zette,"  a  periodical  conducted  by  a  young  lawyer  of  a  liter 
ary  turn,  since  known  as  the  venerable  Judge  Theophilus  Par 
sons,  who  earnestly  solicited  his  aid.*  He  began  to  write  for 
him  in  the  latter  part  of  1823,  and  continued  to  write  through 
the  year  1824,  until  some  time  in  1825.  It  proved  the  time  of 
his  most  prolific  poetic  effort.  Between  twenty  and  thirty 
poems  were  then  produced,  the  names  of  which  alone  suggest 
the  rare  value  of  his  collaboration.  They  were  "  The  Massacre 
at  Scio,"  "  Rizpah,"  "  The  Rivulet,"  "  March,"  "  The  Old  Man's 
Funeral,"  "  Sonnet  to  -  — ,"  "An  Indian  Story,"  "  Summer 
Wind,"  "An  Indian  at  the  Burial-Place  of  his  Fathers,"  the 
song  called  "  The  Lover's  Lessons,"  "  Monument  Mountain," 
the  "  Hymn  of  the  Waldenses,"  "  After  a  Tempest,"  "  Au 
tumn  Woods,"  "  Mutation,"  "  November,"  "  Song  of  the  Greek 
Amazon,"  "  To  a  Cloud,"  "  The  Murdered  Traveller,"  "  Hymn 
to  the  North  Star,"  "  The  Lapse  of  Time,"  "The  Song  of  the 
Stars,"  and  the  "  Forest  Hymn."  Never  before  had  so  many 
bits  of  verse  of  equal  excellence  been  contributed  to  the  same 
periodical  within  the  same  limits  of  time.  They  show  that 
the  writer's  monotonous  drudgery,  "  scrawling  strange  words 
with  a  barbarous  pen,"  had  not  dimmed  his  eyes  to  the  deli 
cate  beauties  of  Nature,  nor  abated  the  force  of  his  imagina 
tion.  In  the  "  March,"  "  The  Rivulet,"  "  Monument  Mount 
ain,"  "  Autumn  Woods,"  "After  a  Tempest,"  and  the  "Forest 
Hymn,"  we  have  some  of  the  finest  work  of  his  life,  equal  to 
the  best  in  the  little  volume  of  1821,  and  hardly  surpassed  in 

changed.  It  passed  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Alexander  and  Edward  Everett,  gentlemen 
of  fine  scholarship  and  taste,  but  who,  adhering  still  to  the  classic  English  models  of 
the  Queen  Anne  period,  were  not  admirers  of  either  the  opinions  or  style  of  Mr. 
Dana.  Mr.  Dana's  habitual  study  of  the  older  English  writers,  and  his  warm  admira 
tion  of  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge,  in  spite  of  the  arbitrary  dicta  of  Jeffrey  in  the 
"Edinburgh,"  put  him  somewhat  in  advance  of  his  contemporaries.  His  pecu 
liarities  of  thought  and  expression  seemed  strange  and  unnatural,  if  not  affected, 
then,  although  we  should  now  regard  them  not  only  as  perfectly  natural,  but  as  really 
beautiful. 

*  Mr.  Parsons  died  in  1882,  after  this  was  written. 


1 92 


THE  LA  W  ABANDONED. 


later  years.  His  principal  theme  is  Nature,  which  he  treats 
as  one  whose  mission  it  was  to  show  an  uncongenial  world 
what  beauty  lay  concealed  in  our  vast,  uncouth,  almost  savage 
wilds  of  woods  and  fields.  But  his  enthusiasm  for  the  Greeks 
finds  elegiac  or  lyrical  vent  now  and  then ;  and  the  region  in 
which  he  lived,  once  the  home  of  a  powerful  tribe  of  Indians, 
whose  solitary  descendants  wandered  back  at  times,  from  their 
new  settlements  toward  the  setting  sun,  to  gaze  upon  the 
graves  of  their  race,  suggested  pathetic  stories  out  of  their 
traditions.*  Among  these  pieces  there  is  one  which  has  a  deep 

and  tender  personal  meaning.     It  is  the  "  Sonnet  to ,"  his 

sister,  a  dearly  loved  companion  of  earlier  days,  who  was  then 
in  the  last  stages  of  the  disease  of  which  the  father  had  died  a 
few  years  before.  She  was  a  person  of  rare  endowments  and 
sweetness  of  disposition,  and  well  might  he  pray  that 

"  — death  should  come 
Gently  to  one  of  gentle  mould  like  thee, 
As  light  winds  wandering  through  groves  of  bloom 
Detach  the  delicate  blossoms  from  the  tree." 

She  died  in  the  twenty-second  year  of  her  age,  and  there 
after  the  old  familiar  places  wore  a  gloom  for  him,  which,  per 
haps,  inclined  him  more  willingly  to  the  change  of  residence 
Mr.  Sedgwick  had  suggested.  The  memory  of  this  cherished 
companion  of  his  childhood  he  carried  with  him  for  years,  as 
may  be  seen  in  the  allusive  lines  of  "  The  Past,"  and  of  "  The 
Death  of  the  Flowers." 

The  reader  will  be  both  amused  and  surprised  to  learn  that, 
when  Mr.  Bryant  was  asked  to  name  the  compensation  he  ex 
pected  for  these  writings,  he  fixed  upon  two  dollars  for  each 
piece,  and  seemed,  says  Judge  Parsons,  writing  to  me,  abun 
dantly  satisfied  with  the  terms.  The  publishers,  however 
(Messrs.  Cummings,  Hillard  &  Co.),  appreciating  the  worth  of 

*  The  people  of  Stockbridge  have  erected  a  monument  to  the  memory  of  the 
Stockbridge  tribe  of  Indians,  who  were  the  friends  of  their  fathers. 


THE  PAY  FOR  POETRY.  193 

their  contributor,  offered  him  two  hundred  dollars  a  year  for 
an  average  of  one  hundred  lines  a  month — about  sixteen  and  a 
half  cents  a  line — expressing,  at  the  same  time,  "  their  profound 
regret  that  they  were  unable  to  offer  a  compensation  more 
adequate."  Even  this  was  more  than  he  got  by  his  book  ;  for 
it  appears,  from  accounts  rendered  him  by  Mr.  Phillips  two 
years  later,  that  since  1821  some  seven  hundred  and  fifty  copies 
had  been  printed,  of  which  only  two  hundred  and  seventy  were 
sold,  so  that  the  profits  of  the  author  in  five  years,  all  expenses 
told,  amounted  to  just  fifteen  dollars,  minus  eight  cents — less 
than  two  dollars  for  each  of  the  pieces  contained  in  the  vol 
ume.* 

But  if  the  pecuniary  harvest  was  small,  that  of  fame  was 
more  considerable.  The  poetry  of  the  "  Gazette  "  attracted  a 
great  deal  of  attention,  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  a  volume  en 
titled  "  Miscellaneous  Poems"  f  was  made  of  it,  and  the  "  North 
American  "  thought  the  publication  of  it  a  signal  event  in  our 
literary  history.:):  It  is,  perhaps,  worthy  of  note  that  Mr.  Bry 
ant  himself  formed  a  high  opinion  of  the  poetry  of  the  "  Ga 
zette  "  other  than  his  own ;  for,  noticing  it  afterward  in  the 
"  New  York  Review,"  §  he  said :  "  We  do  not  know,  of  all  the 
numerous  English  periodical  works,  any  one  that  has  furnished 
within  the  same  time  as  much  really  beautiful  poetry.  We 
might  cite,  in  proof  of  this,  the  '  April  Day,'  the  '  Hymn  of  the 
Moravian  Nuns,'  and  the  '  Sunrise  on  the  Hills/  by  H.  W.  L. 
(we  know  not  who  he  is),  or  more  particularly  those  exquisite 
morccaux,  '  True  Greatness,'  '  The  Soul  of  Song,'  '  The  Grave 
of  the  Patriots,'  and  '  The  Desolate  City,'  by  P.,  whom  it  would 
be  affectation  not  to  recognize  as  Dr.  Percival."  The  H.  W. 

*  A  gentleman  met  Mr.  Bryant  in  a  New  York  book-store  a  few  years  ago,  and 
said  :  "  I  have  just  bought  the  earliest  edition  of  your  poems,  and  gave  twenty  dollars 
for  it."  "  More,  by  a  long  shot,"  replied  Mr.  Bryant,  "than  I  received  for  writing 
the  whole  work." 

f  Boston  :  Cummings,  Hillard  &  Co.,  and  Harrison  Gray,  1826. 

\  "  North  American  Review,"  vol.  xxii,  p.  43,  1826. 

§  Vol.  i,  p.  289. 

VOL.  I. — 14 


1 94  THE  LAW  ABANDONED. 

L.,  whom  he  did  not  know,  then  an  undergraduate  of  Bowdoin 
College,  has  since  come  to  be  pretty  well  known  as  Mr.  Henry 
W.  Longfellow. 

Mr.  Dana  was  so  ardent  a  friend  that  he  lost  no  opportu 
nity  in  urging  Mr.  Bryant  to  protracted  effort.  Writing  from 
Cambridge,  July  4,  1824,  he  says: 

" ....  So  much  by  way  of  preface.  And  now  to  my  object — 
which  is,  to  learn  from  you  what  you  have  done,  without  the  bar,  be 
sides  the  little  you  have  written  for  Parsons.  I  shall  expect  from  you 
a  full  and  honest  account  of  yourself.  Your  *  Rivulet '  was  delicate 
and  tender  and  beautiful ;  but  it  sometimes  ran  so  near  '  Green  River  ' 
that  they  mingled  their  murmurings.  I  suppose  '  Green  River '  was 
not  at  all  in  your  mind,  and  that  you  have  not  been  aware  of  this  ?  I 
doubt  whether  it  is  well  for  the  mind  to  work  much  in  this  way — to 
write  from  some  occasional  thought,  or  chance  object.  However 
beautiful  what  it  produces  may  be,  it  is  not  called  upon  for  the  exer 
cise  of  all  its  strength ;  it  acts  in  detachments.  But,  if  it  is  about  un 
dertaking  a  great  work,  there  is  a  plan  to  be  sketched  out  on  a  large 
scale.  The  powers  are  all  astir  gathering  from  abroad,  out  of  all 
quarters.  Then  there  is  such  a  movement  within — such  a  thronging 
of  events  and  images,  and  such  a  press  of  thoughts  and  feelings — that, 
if  a  man  had  time  to  look  into  himself,  he  would  be  as  much  in  won 
der  at  the  change  there  as  at  the  sight  of  a  suddenly  peopled  desert. 
A  man  does  not  feel  himself  completely  till  he  grapples  with  some 
thing  that  will  hold  him  a  tug.  .  .  . 

"  Two  gentlemen,  lately  from  England,  report  that  Cooper  is  in 
high  snuff  there.  They  say  he  ranks  at  least  with  Irving,  and  that  no 
works  meet  with  a  quicker  sale.  I  was  sorry  on  Phillips's  account  to 
see  such  a  review  of  *  The  Pilot.'  It  can  do  no  harm  to  Cooper;  he 
is  to  the  windward  of  the  American  reviewers,  at  least.  It  seemed  to 
me  altogether  unworthy  of  Phillips  in  point  of  ability.  I  am  afraid  he 
meant  to  steer  a  middle  course  between  Cooper's  petty  enemies  and 
those  who  have  the  good  sense  and  the  fairness  to  relish  him  and 
speak  well  of  him.  I  had  no  thought  of  running  on  to  this  length. 
Channing,  Allston,  and  my  brother  desire  to  be  remembered  to  you, 
and  hope  to  hear  of  you  shortly  through  me." 


A  LONG  POEM  DECLINED. 


195 


Mr.  Bryant  answers,  July  8th : 


".  .  .  You  inquire  whether  I  have  written  anything  except  what  I 
have  furnished  to  Parsons.  Nothing  at  all.  I  made  an  engagement 
with  him  with  a  view,  in  the  first  place,  to  earn  something  in  addition 
to  the  emoluments  of  my  profession,  which,  as  you  may  suppose,  are 
not  very  ample,  and,  in  the  second  place,  to  keep  my  hand  in,  for  I  was 
very  near  discontinuing  entirely  the  writing  of  verses.  As  for  setting 
myself  about  the  great  work  you  mention,  I  know  you  make  the  sug 
gestion  in  great  personal  kindness  toward  myself,  and  I  cannot  suffi 
ciently  express  my  sense  of  that  unwearied  good-will  which  has  more 
than  once  called  my  attention  to  this  subject.  But  I  feel  reluctant  to 
undertake  such  a  thing  for  several  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  a  pro 
ject  of  that  sort  on  my  hands  would  be  apt  to  make  me  abstracted, 
impatient  of  business,  and  forgetful  of  my  professional  engagements, 
and  my  literary  experience  has  taught  me  that  it  is  to  my  profession 
alone  that  I  can  look  for  the  steady  means  of  supplying  the  wants  of 
the  day.  In  the  second  place,  I  am  lazy.  In  the  third  place,  I  am 
deterred  by  the  difficulty  of  finding  a  proper  subject.  I  began  last 
winter  to  write  a  narrative  poem,  which  I  meant  should  be  a  little 
longer  than  any  I  had  already  composed ;  but  finding  that  would  turn 
out  at  last  a  poor  story  about  a  Spectre  Ship,  and  that  the  tradition 
on  which  I  had  founded  it  had  already  been  made  use  of  by  Irving, 
I  gave  it  up.  I  fancy  that  it  is  of  some  importance  to  the  success  of 
a  work  that  the  subject  should  be  happily  chosen.  The  only  poems 
that  have  any  currency  at  present  are  of  a  narrative  kind — light  stories, 
in  which  love  is  a  principal  ingredient.  Nobody  writes  epic,  and  no 
body  reads  didactic  poems,  and  as  for  dramatic  poems,  they  are  out 
of  the  question.  In  this  uncertainty,  what  is  to  be  done?  It  is  a 
great  misfortune  to  write  what  everybody  calls  frivolous,  and  a  still 
greater  to  write  what  nobody  can  read. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  Miss  Sedgwick's  new  novel,  *  Redwood,'* 
finds  so  much  favor  with  your  friends,  and  I  think  that  when  you  have 
read  it  you  will  call  it  a  good  book.  What  you  tell  me  of  the  success 
of  our  countryman,  Cooper,  in  England,  is  an  omen  of  good  things.  I 
hope  it  is  the  breaking  of  a  bright  day  for  American  literature,  the 

*  It  was  dedicated  to  Mr.  Bryant. 


196  THE  LAW  ABANDONED. 

glory  and  gladness  of  which  shall  call  you  again  from  your  retire 
ment." 

Again,  on  the  i6th  of  November,  1824,  Mr.  Dana  recurs  to 
the  subject : 

"  Cooper  holds  you  in  great  admiration.  G.  C.  Verplanck  talked 
about  you,  too.  So  far  as  I  could  discover  in  a  two  days'  visit  in  the 
city,  you  are  mighty  popular.  They  all  say  what  I  have  said  to  you — 
till  I  begin  to  think  myself  impertinent — that  you  must  write  a  longer 
poem  than  you  have  yet  written.  ...  A  poem  of  fair  length,  with  se 
lections  from  what  you  furnished  Parsons  (which  he  can't  refuse  you, 
as  you  work  dog  cheap),  together  with  the  contents  of  your  little  vol 
ume,  and  the  addition  of  two  or  three  small  pieces  never  before  pub 
lished,  will  make  the  world  look  upon  you  as  a  man  of  quite  a  comely 
size  and  port  when  you  issue  forth  again.  I  should  think  you  would 
find  very  little  difficulty  in  making  yourself,  abroad  as  well  as  at  home, 
a  man  of  consequence,  as  you  seemed  from  your  letter  to  me  to  be 
doubting  what  steed  to  mount.  This  much  I  will  say :  Mount  what 
one  you  may,  you  will  put  such  spirit  into  him  that  you  will  soon  say, 
in  the  words  of  him  who  will  never  speak  more,  '  The  horse  doth  feel 
his  rider.'  When  you  have  got  well  agoing,  joy  me  with  the  news 
thereof." 

In  another  letter  Dana  takes  occasion  to  inform  him  that 
he  is  getting  a  name  in  England.  In  "  Blackwood's  Magazine  " 
for  June,  he  says,  referring  to  a  criticism  already  cited,  "  is  a 
notice  (slim  enough,  to  be  sure)  of  Roscoe's  *  Selections  of 
American  Poetry ' ;  and  they  seem  to  be  fully  aware  that  you 
are  another  sort  of  a  man  from  those  bound  up  with  you. 
They  say  that  if  you  are  a  young  man  you  wTill  undoubtedly 
take  your  rank  with  their  leading  poets.  This  is  a  good  deal 
for  Blackwood  to  say  of  any  American."  Phillips  was  of  opin 
ion,  also,  that  this  faint  notice  of  him  abroad  had  produced 
great  effect  on  the  currents  of  domestic  opinion.  "  Many  of 
your  countrymen,"  he  remarks,  "  deemed  you  inferior  to  Per- 
cival ;  my  poor  praise  in  the  '  North  American '  they  thought 
an  extravagant  eulogium ;  but,  now  that  you  have  been  repro- 


THE  SPECTRE  SHIP. 


I97 


duccd  by  Roscoe  in  England,  the  question  is  settled,  and  they 
have  become  your  most  decided  admirers."  * 

The  narrative  poem  of  the  "  Spectre  Ship,"  mentioned  in 
the  letter  of  July  8th,  is  still  partly  extant  in  manuscript.  It  is 
a  story  founded  upon  the  tradition  told  by  Cotton  Mather,  in 
his  "  Magnalia  Christi,"  of  a  vessel  which,  in  the  time  of  the 
Pilgrims,  sailed  from  New  Haven,  having  a  large  body  of  re 
turning  emigrants  on  board,  but  which  was  never  heard  of 
again.f  The  interest  of  it  was  made  to  hang,  as  far  as  I  can 
gather  from  the  indications  of  the  fragments,  on  the  adven 
tures  of  a  young  lover  who  leaves  his  orphan  sweetheart  be 
hind  him  to  suffer  the  various  calamities  of  Indian  captivity  on 
shore,  while  he  suffers  from  the  no  less  barbarous  treacheries 
of  the  sea,  until  they  are  at  length  restored  to  each  other's 
arms  by  some  of  those  miraculous  agencies  known  to  novelists 
and  poets.  In  what  way  he  was  going  to  weave  the  supersti 
tious  element  into  his  story  does  not  appear.  Nevertheless,  the 
scheme  gave  ample  scope  for  descriptions  of  forest  and  sea,  in 
calm  and  storm,  and  was  suggestive  of  incidents  as  romantic 
as  any  of  those  that  Scott  has  immortalized.  Mr.  Bryant,  how 
ever,  did  not  carry  his  execution  of  it  beyond  a  few  hundred 
lines,  of  which  it  may  be  repeated  what  has  been  already  said 
of  his  projected  Indian  tale,  that  the  descriptive  parts  overbal 
ance  the  narrative.  He  could  tell  a  simple  story  well,  as  he 
has  since  proved  by  "  Sella  "  and  "  The  Little  People  of  the 
Snow,"  but  whether  he  was  equal  to  the  dramatic  exigencies 
of  a  sustained  and  complicated  plot  admits  of  some  doubt. 
His  genius  was  meditative,  not  epical ;  and  while  we  possess 
such  poems  as  "  The  Fountain,"  "  The  Rain-Dream,"  "  Among 

*  Narrowness  or  provincialism  of  judgment  was  then  one  of  the  most  formidable 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  our  native  writers,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  we  are  yet  wholly 
free  from  the  impediment. 

f  Mr.  Longfellow  has  some  verses  on  the  same  subject,  beginning  : 
"  In  Mather's  '  Magnalia  Christi ' 

Of  the  old  colonial  time, 
You  will  find  in  prose  the  legend 
Which  is  here  set  down  in  rhyme." 


I98  THE  LAW  ABANDONED. 

the  Trees,"  "  The  Night  Journey  of  a  River,"  and  others  of 
the  kind,  we  may  easily  forgive  him  his  want  of  ambition  or 
ability  to  reach  success  in  other  walks  of  his  art. 

Many  letters  of  this  time  show  Mr.  Bryant's  incessant  ac 
tivity  in  services  to  other  writers.  Charles  Sedgwick  thanks 
him  gratefully  for  his  review  of  Miss  Sedgwick's  "  Redwood," 
which,  as  it  was  inscribed  to  him,  he  only  undertook  at  the  ur 
gent  request  of  Mr.  Jared  Sparks,  now  become  the  editor  of 
the  "  North  American."  *  Mr.  Thomas  J.  Upham,  since  dis 
tinguished  as  a  metaphysician,  but  then  aspiring  to  be  a  poet, 
submitted  his  first  effusions  to  Mr.  Bryant's  correcting  hand. 
He  revised  in  manuscript,  also,  the  poems  of  Henry  Pickering, 
author  of  "  The  Ruins  of  Paestum,"  and  afterward  made  them 
the  subject  of  a  careful  notice  in  the  "North  American."  f 
James  T.  Hillhouse,  a  writer  who  had  before  come  into  note 
at  home  and  abroad,  thought  it  advisable  to  send  the  manu 
script  of  "  Percy's  Masque  "  to  him  to  be  looked  over.  "  Be 
ing  resolved,"  Mr.  Hillhouse  wrote,  "  to  venture  once  more 
into  the  perilous  field  of  dramatic  poetry,  I  am  anxious  that 
my  weapons  of  warfare  should  be  inspected  and  approved  by 
skilful  eyes."  Mr.  Bryant  read  the  poem  with  care,  and  com 
mended  it  to  public  favor  in  an  elaborate  review. :£  Besides 
these,  many  minor  writers,  ambitious  to  avail  themselves  of 
his  taste  and  judgment,  enclosed  their  manuscripts  to  him,  so 
liciting  his  opinion,  and  sometimes  hinting  that  they  would  not 
be  offended  if  he  should  rewrite  the  weaker  parts.  He  was  pa 
tient  and  good  natured  with  all,  and  often  at  pains  to  return 
elaborate  corrections  and  advices. 

In  these  labors  he  was  actuated  by  an  urgent  desire  to  help 
the  cause  of  American  letters.  "  We  should  ill  fulfil,"  he  said, 
"  the  task  we  have  undertaken  (as  reviewers)  if  we  did  not  oc 
casionally  pause,  amid  our  severer  labors,  to  notice  the  early 
blossoms  Avhich  the  spring-time  of  our  literature  is  calling  up 
along  our  path."  "  It  is  a  matter  of  no  small  gratification,"  he 

*  "  North  American  Review,"  No.  n,  p.  384.       f  No.  19,  p.  42.       \  No.  20,  p.  245. 


INTEREST  IN  AMERICAN  LETTERS. 

goes  on  to  say,  "  in  watching  the  progress  of  American  poetry, 
to  see  it  assuming  something  of  an  original  and  national  char 
acter — to  see  the  embalmed  body  that  lately  was  worshipped  as 
a  nymph,  symmetrical,  indeed,  but  cold,  lifeless,  and  without 
human  emotion,  laid  quietly  in  the  grave,  and  a  new-born  be 
ing  arise,  full  of  youth  and  life,  though  sometimes  awkwardly 
putting  forth  her  strength,  and  sometimes  affected  in  her  at 
tempts  at  gracefulness,  and  decking  herself,  in  infantile  fond 
ness,  with  a  profusion  of  ornaments  and  flowers." 

As  the  books  he  criticised  have  largely  passed  away,  so  his 
criticisms  of  them  have  lost  their  interest  for  us  now,  yet  they 
furnish,  incidentally,  hints  of  the  writer's  opinions  on  some 
topics  connected  with  his  art  that  may  be  pondered  with 
profit.  Thus,  in  the  notice  of  "  The  Ruins  of  Paestum,"  we  dis 
cover  what  he  regarded  as  the  besetting  fault  of  the  writers  of 
that  day — haste  ;  haste  in  composition,  and  haste  in  rushing  be 
fore  the  public.  "  No  kind  of  composition,"  he  remarks,  "  re 
quires  a  more  perfect  abstraction  of  mind  than  poetry,  or  a 
more  intense  and  vigorous  exertion  of  the  faculties,  and  he 
who  covets  its  rewards  cannot  dispense  with  its  discipline. 
Improvisators  have  never  produced  a  lasting  work.  When 
Parnassus  is  to  be  scaled,  he  only  reaches  the  summit  who 
boldly  climbs  its  heights  through  brambles  and  briers,  and 
fearless  of  precipices,  and  not  he  who  sidles  safely  and  slowly 
along  circuitous  paths,  taking  his  ease  when  he  will."  Again, 
he  remarks  that  to  fly  into  print  before  one  has  given  the  last 
touches  to  his  work,  and  made  it  as  good  as  he  is  able,  "  offends 
decorum  as  much  as  a  gentleman  would  who  should  walk  into 
an  assembly  with  a  long  beard,  an  unbrushed  coat,  and  a  dirty 
pair  of  boots."  Similarly,  in  the  review  of  "  Redwood,"  we 
find  a  suggestive  discussion  of  the  adaptation  of  American  life 
to  the  purposes  of  the  novelist ;  and  in  that  of  "  Hadad,"  *  a 
little  later,  some  wise  thoughts  on  the  propriety  of  using  scenes 
and  characters  from  Scripture  as  themes  for  dramatic  treat- 

*  "  New  York  Review,"  vol.  i,  p.  I. 


200  THE  LA  W  ABANDONED. 

ment,  illustrating  his  conclusions  by  references  to  Milton,  Cow- 
ley,  Byron,  Moore,  Montgomery,  Cumberland,  Dwight,  and 
Hannah  More. 

It  is  to  be  inferred,  from  the  persistency  as  well  as  variety 
of  his  literary  work  at  this  time,  that  Mr.  Bryant  was  verging 
more  and  more  toward  a  definite  committal  of  himself  to  lit 
erature  as  a  vocation.  He  did  not  neglect  his  practice  of  law  ; 
on  the  contrary,  his  exertions  were  greater,  and  his  reputation 
as  a  lawyer  was  growing.  He  was  called  to  argue  cases  at 
Northampton,  at  New  Haven,  and  before  the  Supreme  Court 
at  Boston.*  None  the  less,  "  Green  River "  shows  that  his 
heart  was  not  in  it ;  he  wanted  to  get  away  from  the  "  sons 
of  strife,  subtle  and  loud " ;  and  the  letters  that  passed  be 
tween  himself  and  several  intimate  friends  now  turn  mainly 
upon  his  wish  to  quit  it  all  forever.  Mr.  Phillips  rebukes 
him  frankly  for  his  desire  to  abandon  a  career  in  which  suc 
cess  is  so  entirely  assured.  Mr.  Charles  Sedgwick  is  more 
guarded,  but  proposes  that  he  should  go  to  New  York  to 
see  what  can  be  done  there.  In  a  letter  of  November  4,  1824, 
he  says : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  thought  a  great  deal  of  your  project  since 
court.  The  law  is  a  hag,  I  know,  wearing  the  wrinkled  visage  of  an 
tiquity,  toward  which  you  can  feel  no  complacency.  Though  it 
comes  to  us  fraught  with  the  pretended  wisdom  of  ages,  it  wears  an 
ugly  drapery  of  forms,  and  the  principles  of  virtue  and  the  simple 
perceptions  of  truth  are  so  involved  in  clouds  of  mystical  learning 
and  nonsense  that  the  finest  mind  must  needs  grope  in  obscurity  and 
be  clogged  with  difficulties.  Besides,  there  are  tricks  in  practice 
which  perpetually  provoke  disgust.  The  end,  indeed,  may  be  good, 
and  success  certain,  and  eminence,  too,  but  the  process  is  perplexing, 
and  the  way  not  pleasant.  I  can  not  bear,  however,  to  have  you  quit 
the  profession,  for  many  weighty  personal  reasons ;  and  I  feel  a  great 
interest  that  you  should  prove  that  your  genius  which  delights  the 

*  A  late  Senator  of  the  United  States  from  Connecticut,  Mr.  Truman  Smith, 
writes  me  that  he  was  associated  with 'Mr.  Bryant  in  the  conduct  of  an  important  trial 
at  New  Haven,  in  which  he  evinced  the  very  highest  learning,  acumen,  and  assiduity. 


THE  LAST  CASE  IN  LAW.  2Ql 

world  can  surmount  the  barriers  of  the  least  inviting  and  most  labori 
ous  profession.  Still  I  do  not  know  how  you  ought  to  decide.  If  I 
had  your  mind  and  a  very  prevailing  desire  for  literary  occupations,  I 
should  run  the  hazard  of  indulging  it.  If  you  do  this,  I  hope,  before 
you  form  any  definite  plan,  you  will  go  to  New  York  and  see  what 
you  can  find  there  worthy  of  your  notice.  I  do  not  know  how  useful 
my  brothers  may  render  themselves  in  this  way,  but  of  one  thing  I 
can  assure  you :  neither  of  them  will  be  wanting  in  that  zeal  which 
characterizes  a  friend.  Whenever  and  whatever  you  decide,  may 
God  bless  you.  Yours,  affectionately, 

"C.  S." 

Whether  he  went  to  New  York  in  compliance  with  this  ad 
vice  is  not  told  ;  but  Phillips's  continued  expostulations  make 
it  clear  that  his  purpose  is  at  last  fixed.  He  will  turn  his  back 
upon  Themis,  and  be  henceforth  constant  to  the  Muses.  In 
speaking  of  the  reasons  of  this  change  later  in  life,  Mr.  Bryant 
averred  that  he  could  never  make  up  his  mind  to  undertake  a 
cause,  of  the  rigid  and  entire  justice  of  which  he  was  not  fully 
persuaded ;  and  that,  with  such  feelings,  the  law  afforded  him 
little  prospect  of  emolument.  He  further  alleged  that  the  de 
cisions  of  the  courts  were  not  in  accordance  with  equity,  citing 
in  proof  one  of  the  last  cases  in  which  he  was  employed.  It 
seems  that  a  person  named  Tobey  had  said  of  another  person 
named  Bloss  that  he  had  burned  down  his  own  house  to  se 
cure  the  insurance  money.  Tobey,  on  being  prosecuted  for 
slander,  Mr.  Bryant  acting  as  attorney  for  the  prosecution, 
was  mulcted  some  five  hundred  dollars ;  but  on  an  appeal  from 
the  lower  courts  to  the  Supreme  Court,  it  was  decided,  for 
mainly  technical  reasons,  that,  as  a  man  has  a  right  to  do  as 
he  pleases  with  his  own,  the  accusation  was  not  slanderous.* 
"  Thus,  by  a  piece  of  pure  chicane — in  a  case  the  merits  of 

*  The  case  is  reported  in  2cl  Pickering,  Massachusetts  Reports,  p.  320.  Chief 
Justice  Parson's  decision  is  thus  summarized :  "Simply  to  burn  one's  store  is  not  un 
lawful,  and  the  words,  '  He  burnt  his  store'  or  '  then  is  no  doubt  in  my  mind  that  he 
burned  his  own  store,  he  "would  not  have  got  his  goods  insured  if  he  had  not  meant  to 
burn  it,'  or  a  general  allegation  that  the  defendant  charged  the  plaintiff  with  having 


202  THE  LA  W  ABANDONED. 

which  were  with  my  client,  and  which  were  perfectly  under 
stood  by  the  parties,  the  court,  the  jury,  and  everybody  who 
heard  the  trial,  or  heard  of  it— my  client  was  turned  out  of 
court,  after  the  jury  had  awarded  him  damages — and  so  de 
prived  of  what  they  intended  he  should  receive."  Disgusted, 
therefore,  alike  by  his  non-success  and  the  reason  of  it,  he 
flung  up  his  briefs  and  turned  his  looks  elsewhere.*  His  long 
ings,  as  we  have  seen,  had  been  for  Boston,  the  undoubted  lit 
erary  centre  of  the  time,  where  Allston,  Pierpont,  Sprague,  and 
others  were  diffusing  a  mild  poetic  radiance  over  the  better 
achievements  of  learning  and  eloquence.  But  the  pivot  was 
now  shifting.  New  York — already  illustrated  by  Irving  and 
Cooper — harbored  some  sparkling  wits  in  the  persons  of  Hal- 
leek,  Drake,  Verplanck,  and  Sands.  Yet  it  was  a  desperate 
venture  to  undertake  to  live  by  literature  in  its  existing  state. 
Irving  and  Cooper  were  our  only  successful  professional  au 
thors,  and  both  of  them  possessed  some  little  hereditary  for 
tune.  Verplanck  and  Sands  were  lawyers,  and  Halleck  was 
in  a  mercantile  business.  What  promise  was  there  for  a  writer 
of  poetry — and  that  poetry  of  a  refined,  not  popular,  cast — in  a 
great  commercial  town  ? 

There  are  still  living  a  few  persons  who  remember  Mr. 
Bryant  in  the  Great  Barrington  days,  f  and  I  have  obtained 
from  them,  by  letter  or  personal  communication,  some  remi 
niscences  of  the  impression  he  made  upon  his  village  contempo 
raries.  Mr.  Leavenworth,  who  would  otherwise  have  been 

wilfully  and  maliciously  burnt  his  own  store,  will  not  sustain  an  action  for  slander 
without  a  colloquium  or  averment  setting  forth  such  circumstances  as  would  render 
such  burning  unlawful,  and  that  the  words  were  spoken  of  such  circumstances  ;  and 
the  want  of  such  colloquium  will  not  be  cured  by  an  innuendo." 

*  See,  "  I  broke  the  Spell  that  held  me  long." — Poetical  Works,  vol.  i,  p.  99. 

f  These  are  Mr.  E.  W.  Leavenworth,  former  member  of  Congress  from  the  Syra 
cuse  district,  in  whose  father's  house  Mr.  Bryant  boarded,  and  who  studied  law  for 
a  short  time  in  his  office  ;  Mrs.  George  Pynchon,  nee  Rossiter,  who  saw  him  in  so 
ciety  ;  Colonel  Ralph  Taylor,  for  a  while  his  room-mate  ;  Mr.  Isaac  Seeley,  his  suc 
cessor  as  town  clerk  ;  Mr.  George  Hains,  whom,  as  justice  of  the  peace,  he  married 
to  Miss  Hannah  Avery ;  and  Mr.  Edward  P.  Woodward  and  wife. 


VILLAGE  OPINIONS.  203 

our  best  witness,  was  too  young1  to  remember  much  of  him  ; 
but  he  distinctly  recalls  his  solitary,  brooding  habits,  and  his 
dislike  of  his  occupation ;  his  love  of  the  thickets  along  Green 
River  and  the  Housatonic ;  and  his  reticent,  almost  austere 
manner  with  strangers,  contrasted  with  his  cheerful,  entertain 
ing,  joyous  way  among  his  friends.  Mrs.  Pynchon  relates  that 
he  was  simple  and  scrupulously  neat  in  his  dress,  wearing  com 
monly  blue  cloth  made  in  city  fashion,  which  to  rustic  taste 
seemed  a  little  dandified.  Occasionally  he  attended  evening 
parties,  and  took  part  in  games  and  frolics,  but  was  never  de 
monstrative,  and  much  less  hilarious.  The  young  women  liked 
his  bright  eyes  and  clustering  light-brown  hair,  and  "  set  their 
caps  for  him  "  ;  but  he  once  gave  them  great  offence  by  saying 
that  "  farmers'  daughters  always  walked  as  if  they  were  carry 
ing  swill-pails  " — for  which  ungracious  speech,  however,  he 
made  amends  by  marrying  a  farmer's  daughter  in  the  end. 
He  drank  wine  now  and  then,  but  was  rigidly  temperate  in 
both  eating  and  drinking,  making  his  diet  chiefly  of  fruits  and 
vegetables,  and  his  beverages  of  milk  and  water.  "  A  more 
perfect  gentleman,"  said  one  good  lady,  "never  existed;  and 
yet  he  had  a  strange  fondness  for  talking  with  queer  and  com 
mon  people — farmers,  woodmen,  and  stage-drivers.  He  would 
crack  his  jokes  with  them  at  any  time,  and  yet  seemed  to  avoid 
more  respectable  people."  Colonel  Taylor  says  he  liked  to 
wander  most  of  anything,  and  when  he  met  an  acquaintance 
his  first  salutation  was,  "  Come,  what  say  you  for  a  stroll  " — 
which  stroll,  once  begun,  was  apt  to  last  for  the  greater  part 
of  the  day.  "  He  was  a  passionate  botanist,"  adds  the  same 
authority  ;  "  knew  the  name  of  every  tree,  flower,  and  spire  of 
grass;  and  was  curious  also  about  the  antiquities  of  every 
place,  and  yet  when  you  told  him  anything  he  seemed  to  know 
it  all  before.  He  relished  a  jest  heartily — even  broad  jokes — got 
off  some  of  his  own,  and  his  laugh,  when  he  did  laugh,  began 
with  a  queer  chuckle,  spread  gradually  over  the  whole  face, 
and  finally  shook  him  all  over  like  an  ague."  "  He  was  com 
monly  gentle,  courteous,  and  polite  ;  but  he  allowed  of  no  fa- 


204  THE  LAW  ABANDONED. 

milarities ;  and  impertinence  or  vulgarism  he  rebuked  on  the 
spot,  no  matter  who  the  offender.  Once,  when  some  young 
men,  a  little  '  sot '  with  liquor,  were  teasing  another  somewhat 
more  intoxicated  than  themselves,  he  reproached  them  for 
their  inebriety  and  cruelty,  predicting  that  they  would  all 
come  to  a  bad  end  ;  and  every  one  of  them  did  die  a  drunkard." 
In  court  he  often  lost  his  self-control  when  provoked  by  ad 
versaries  ;  and  on  one  occasion  a  neighbor  met  him  bouncing 
out  of  the  door,  almost  white  with  rage,  and  exclaiming :  "  If 
old  Whiting  says  that  again,  I  will  thrash  him  within  an  inch 
of  his  life."  "  The  fun  of  this  was,"  says  Colonel  Taylor,  "  that 
while  Mr.  Bryant  was  spare,  almost  diminutive  in  size,  the 
other  fellow,  General  Whiting,  was  quite  a  giant.  Little  as  he 
was,  however,  he  was  fearless,  and  would  have  undertaken, 
and  done  it,  too,  if  he  liked."  "  He  was  punctual  in  going  to 
church,  owning  half  a  pew  in  the  Congregational  Church,  but 
he  was  terribly  prone  to  pick  the  sermons  all  to  pieces." 

As  a  poet  he  was  scarcely  known  to  his  neighbors  until  he 
had  gone  up  to  Cambridge  to  deliver  his  Phi  Beta  Kappa  ad 
dress.  Even  then  he  was  not  without  rivals  for  village  fame. 
One  of  these,  David  Hitchcock,  a  cobbler,  whose  "  Shade  of 
Plato"  and  "Social  Monitor"  may  yet  be  seen  in  type,*  used 
to  pay,  it  is  said,  for  his  corn  and  potatoes  with  his  doggerel. 
Another,  Emanuel  Hodget,  like  Homer,  sang  his  verses  through 
the  streets.  Meeting  Mr.  Bryant  one  day,  he  accosted  him 
thus :  "  Well,  Squire  Bryant,  they  say  you  are  a  poet  like  me  ; 
is  that  so?  I've  never  heerd  any  of  your  varses;  would  you 
like  one  of  mine  ?  Here  goes : 

1  Squire  Bryant  is  a  man  so  bold 
He  scorns  to  be  controlled ; 
And  keeps  his  books  under  his  arm, 
For  fear  they  may  be  sold.'  ' 

Mr.  Bryant  used  to  repeat  this  effusion  with  great  glee  ; 
but  many  of  his  listeners  could  not  understand  why  he  laughed 

*  They  were  printed  in  thin  volumes  at  Stockb ridge,  in  1812. 


THE  DEATH  OF  BYRON. 


205 


at  it  so  much.  One  among  them,  at  least,  was  an  exception,  a 
French  officer  of  Napoleon's  army,  and  a  friend  of  Lafayette, 
named  Bouton,  who  gave  him  lessons  in  French  and  fencing, 
and  became  a  most  sincere  and  admiring  friend.  They  corre 
sponded  in  French  when  Bouton  removed  to  another  village, 
and  in  one  of  the  latter's  letters  is  this  remonstrance :  "  Ah,  my 
good  friend,  why  dost  thou  despair  because  the  fickle  jade  For 
tune  is  not  kind  to  thee?  Thou  shouldst  snap  thy  fingers  at  her 
as  I  do.  Hast  thou  not  an  amiable  wife,  a  lovely  child,  and  tal 
ents  to  win  thee  a  name  ?  Yes,  Europe  may  fondle  England's 
spoiled  child  of  genius  (Byron),  but  posterity  will  prize  thee 
more  than  him  " — a  sagacious  forecast,  not  flattery,  if  I  may 
judge  from  the  prevailing  tone  of  the  old  soldier's  epistles. 
Byron  was  then  uppermost  in  everybody's  mind,  and  it  is  told 
of  Mr.  Bryant  that  once  as  he  approached  a  group  of  village 
youths  one  of  them  exclaimed  :  "  See  Bryant ;  because  he  is  a 
poet  he  wears  his  shirt-collar  turned  over  in  imitation  of 
Byron  !  "  "  Silence,  sir !  "  was  the  poet's  only  response  ;  "  poor 
Byron  is  now  no  more,"  and  his  eyes  moistened  as  he  spoke. 
Judging  by  his  sentiments  in  after  years,  he  no  doubt  dis 
liked  the  loose,  cynical,  and  sophisticated  man ;  but,  like  every 
one  who  lived  from  1816  to  1824,  he  could  not  but  feel  the 
power  and  the  passion  of  the  bard,  and  his  heart  might  well 
have  softened  at  the  thought  of  a  career  so  young,  so  brilliant, 
so  wasted,  for  which  the  redeeming  future  was  now  suddenly 
closed  forever.* 

*  Mr.  Bigelow,  in  his  memorial  address  to  the  Century  Club,  said  :  "  I  don't  re 
member  to  have  heard  him  ever  cite  a  line  or  an  opinion  of  Byron,  who  was  never 
one  of  his  favorites.  Some  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  ago  a  person  claiming  to  be  a 
son  of  the  poet  appeared  in  New  York  with  some  poems  and  letters  which  he  said 
had  been  written  and  given  him  by  Byron,  and  for  which  he  sought  to  find  a  market 
among  our  publishers.  I  spoke  of  the  matter  one  day  to  Bryant,  and  his  reply  sur 
prised  me  more  than  it  would  have  done  after  my  opinions  of  Byron  were  more  set 
tled.  Looking  up  with  an  expression  which  implied  more  than  he  uttered,  he  said  : 
'  I  think  we  have  poems  enough  of  Byron  already.' "  No  less,  in  the  anthology 
which  he  supervised,  there  are  more  quotations  from  Byron  than  from  any  other 
contemporary  poet. 


CHAPTER    ELEVENTH. 

"A    LITERARY    ADVENTURER." 
A.  D.  1825,  1826. 

MR.  BRYANT  visited  New  York  in  both  January  and  Feb 
ruary,  1825,  a  "  literary  adventurer,"  as  he  describes  himself.* 
His  route  was  by  stage  to  Hartford,  where  he  expected  to 
take  a  steamer,  but,  as  no  steamer  was  ready  to  sail,  he  con 
tinued  by  stage,  and  reached  the  city  after  a  journey  of  three 
days  and  a  night.  In  his  first  letter  to  his  wife,  announcing  his 
arrival,  he  says :  "  I  have  no  leisure  to  report  progress  as  to 
my  projects ;  but  I  will  do  the  best  I  can  while  I  am  here,  and 
decide  as  soon  as  possible  whether  to  remain  or  not.  Sedg- 
wick  is  constantly  occupied  with  my  affairs." 

New  York,  at  the  time  of  these  visits,  was  a  considerable 
city,  but  hardly  yet  the  metropolis.  Boston  surpassed  it  in 
literary  repute,  and  Philadelphia  vied  with  it  in  commercial 
activity.  The  completion  of  the  Erie  Canal,  however,  cele 
brated  but  a  year  before  by  grand  illuminations  and  parades, 
having  opened  trade  to  the  boundless  prairies  of  the  West, 
was  giving  it  a  start  to  supremacy.  As  yet  its  population  did 
not  exceed  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  souls.  A  line  drawn 
from  Catharine  Street,  on  the  East  River,  along  Canal  Street 
to  the  Hudson  River,  would  have  formed  the  northern  bound 
ary  of  the  thickly  settled  parts.  Broadway,  the  principal  thor 
oughfare,  was  built  up  as  far  as  Canal  Street ;  beyond  that  to 
Prince  Street  only  a  few  straggling  houses  were  to  be  seen, 

*  Address  on  G.  C.  Verplanck. 


NEW  YORK  IN  1825. 

and  then  came  orchards  and  fields.  I  can  myself  remember  to 
have  played  as  a  boy  on  a  stone  bridge  that  crossed  a  stream 
in  Canal  Street  coming  from  the  Kolch,  a  considerable  pond 
near  the  site  of  the  present  Tombs,  and  to  have  hesitated  in 
going  beyond  it,  in  dread  of  imaginary  savages,  or  of  the 
press  gangs  that  stole  little  boys  and  carried  them  to  sea. 
Lispenard's  meadows,  near  by,  had  just  been  filled  up  and 
graded  for  building  lots.  Greenwich  village,  a  few  miles  out, 
was  a  summer  resort  and  place  of  refuge  when  the  yellow 
fever  raged,  as  it  often  did  in  the  overcrowded  districts.  A 
favorite  suburban  walk  was  along  the  bank  of  the  North 
River,  as  far  as  the  State  prison,  at  the  foot  of  Amos  Street, 
overlooking  the  harbor  with  its  stately  ships  and  its  steam 
boats,  still  somewhat  of  a  novelty.  Dr.  Hosach's  Botanic 
Garden,  covering  some  twenty  acres  of  ground  (near  Forty- 
seventh  Street),  and  filled  with  rare  plants,  native  and  exotic, 
was  generally  an  attractive  place. 

Within  the  city  the  streets  were  narrow,  and  about  as  dirty 
as  they  have  ever  since  remained,  but  they  were  then  fre 
quented  by  loose  pigs,  were  badly  lighted  by  rusty  oil  lamps, 
and  poorly  watched  by  constables  in  huge  capes  and  leather 
caps.  Some  few  were  exceptionally  fringed  with  trees — elms, 
plane,  and  catalpas — and  the  park,  finely  shaded,  was  the  play 
ground  for  children  in  the  day-time,  and  a  social  gathering- 
place  for  their  elders  in  the  evening.  The  richer  and  more 
fashionable  denizens  lived  around  the  Battery,  and  Maiden 
Lane  was  the  center  of  the  more  splendid  shops  and  stores.* 

More  compact  than  now,  the  inhabitants  were  generally 
more  intimately  acquainted  with  one  another.  Everybody 
knew  everybody,  and  everybody  took  part  in  what  was  going 
on.  The  resources  of  enjoyment — theatres,  operas,  concerts, 
balls,  and  excursions — were  limited,  but  they  were  open  to  all. 

*  For  many  of  these  facts  about  the  city  I  am  indebted  to  a  paper  prepared  for 
me  by  my  friend  Chief  Justice  Daly,  who  speaks  from  his  own  personal  recollections. 
It  is  not  the  place,  or  I  should  avail  myself  more  largely  of  his  interesting  communi 
cation. 


208  "A  LITERARY  ADVENTURER." 

Family  visiting  was  common,  so  that  it  was  easy  to  get  into 
"  society  "  ;  and  the  taverns  were  not  so  much  frequented  by 
wayfarers  as  by  residents,  to  whom  they  answered  the  purpose 
of  clubs  and  restaurants.  Each  one  of  them,  in  fact,  had  its 
special  circle  of  gossips  and  clever  men.  All  the  celebrities  of 
the  professions,  the  stage,  or  of  literature  were  there  to  be  met 
with ;  and,  seated  at  little  tables  on  the  well-sanded  floor,  with 
pipes  in  their  mouths,  and  jugs  of  punch  at  their  elbows,  they 
discussed  politics,  books,  play-actors,  and  the  events  of  social 
life.  In  one  of  these  clubs,  founded  by  Cooper,  called  the 
Bread  and  Cheese  Club,  which  met  in  Washington  Hotel,  on 
the  site  of  Stewart's  late  wholesale  store,  Mr.  Bryant  en 
countered  many  of  the  distinguished  men  of  the  day — James 
Kent,  Thomas  Adclis  Emmet,  Edward  D.  Griffin,  among  the 
lawyers  ;  President  Duer,  and  Professors  Renwick,  McVickar, 
Anthon,  and  Moore,  of  Columbia  College  ;  the  poets  Percival, 
Hillhouse,  Halleck,  and  Sands;  and  the  artists  Vanderlyn, 
Morse,  Jarvis,  and  Dunlap. 

He  was,  however,  chiefly  indebted  to  the  brothers  Sedg- 
wick — Henry  and  Robert,  both  men  of  high  standing  at  the 
bar — for  his  social  opportunities.  "  Their  houses,"  he  says,* 
"  were  the  resort  of  the  best  company  in  New  York — cultivated 
men  and  women,  literati,  artists,  and  occasionally  foreigners  of 
distinction.  Here  I  often  found  Verplanck,  who  had  shortly 
before  published  his  work  on  the  '  Evidences  of  the  Christian 
Religion,'  and  was  then  occupied  in  getting  through  the  press 
his  able  '  Essay  on  the  Doctrine  of  Contracts.'  Here  I  met 
the  novelist  J.  Fenimore  Cooper,  who,  however,  soon  after 
had  a  difference  with  Robert  Sedgwick,  which  put  an  end  to 
his  intimacy  with  the  family.  At  these  houses  I  met  Robert  C. 
Sands,  the  wit  and  poet,  whose  '  Yamoyden,'  written  by  him 
in  conjunction  with  James  Wallis  Eastburn,  had  just  before 
appeared  ;  and  Hillhouse,  author  of  '  Percy's  Masque,'  and  the 
finer  drama  of  '  Hadad,'  which  he  was  then  writing.  Halleck, 

*  "  Memoirs  of  Miss  C.  M.  Sedgwick." 


THE  SEDGIVICK  BROTHERS. 


209 


then  in  the  height  of  his  poetical  reputation,  was  among  the 
visitors,  and  Anthony  Bleeker,  who  read  everything  that  came 
out,  and  sometimes  wrote  for  the  magazines,  an  amusing  com 
panion,  always  ready  with  his  puns,  of  whom  Miss  Eliza  Fenno, 
before  her  marriage  to  Verplanck,  in  1 8 1 1 ,  wrote  that  she  had 
gone  into  the  country  to  take  refuge  from  Anthony  Bleeker's 
puns.  Here  were  frequently  seen  Morse,  then  an  artist,  uncon 
scious  of  the  renown  which  was  yet  to  crown  him  as  the  author 
of  the  most  wonderful  invention  of  the  age ;  and  Cole,  the 
landscape  painter,  in  the  early  promise  of  his  genius.  Here, 
too,  the  clear,  magnetic  voice  of  Mrs.  Nicholas  was  some 
times  heard  reciting  Hallcck's  '  Marco  Bozzaris,'  or  one  cf 
Lockhart's  ballads  from  the  Spanish,  to  a  spell-bound  and 
breathless  audience." 

"  Henry  D.  Sedgwick  was  a  philanthropist  and  reformer, 
without  the  faults  which  too  often  make  that  class  of  persons 
disagreeable.  He  was  foremost  in  all  worthy  enterprises,  but 
did  not  fatigue  people  with  them.  He  took  a  deep  interest  in 
the  project  of  reducing  our  statutes  to  a  regular  and  intelligi 
ble  code,  and  wrote  an  able  pamphlet  in  its  favor.  I  remember 
vividly  the  personal  interest  he  took  in  one  of  the  authors  of 
that  code — Benjamin  F.  Butler,  then  of  Albany,  and  afterward, 
under  the  administration  of  Jackson,  Attorney-General  of  the 
United  States — how  much  he  was  impressed  with  the  purity 
of  his  character  and  the  singleness  of  his  mind,  and  how  much 
we  all  admired  him,  on  a  visit  which  he  made  to  New  York, 
then  a  young  man,  with  finely-chiseled  features,  made  a  little 
pale'  by  study,  and  animated  by  an  expression  both  of  the 
greatest  intelligence  and  ingenuousness.  Mr.  Sedgwick  was 
warmly  in  favor  of  that  change  which  has  since  been  made  in 
our  laws — giving  the  wife  the  absolute  disposal  of  her  own 
property — the  advantages  of  which  he  was  fond  of  illustrating 
by  the  marital  law  of  Louisiana.  He  wras  a  zealous  friend  of 
universal  freedom,  and  allowed  no  escaped  slave  from  the 
South  to  be  sent  back  if  he  could  prevent  it.  I  remember  go 
ing  with  him  on  board  a  vessel  just  arrived  from  a  Southern 


TOL.  I.— 15 


2io  "A  LITERARY  ADVENTURER." 

port,  lying  at  a  wharf  in  New  York,  in  which  it  was  said  that 
a  colored  man  was  detained  in  order  to  be  sent  back  into  slav 
ery.  We  found  no  indications  of  the  presence  of  any  such 
person,  but,  if  we  had,  he  would  have  been  immediately  liber 
ated  by  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus." 

Three  days  after  his  arrival  in  New  York,  February  2ist, 
Mr.  Bryant  writes  to  his  wife : 

"Mv  DEAR  FRANCES:  It  will  not  be  possible  for  me  to  set  out 
from  here  till  Thursday  next,  which  will  bring  me  to  Hudson  on  Fri 
day  afternoon.  .  .  .  My  friends  here  are  making  some  interest  to  ob 
tain  the  approbation  and  patronage  of  the  Athen?eum  for  a  literary 
paper  to  be  established  under  my  direction,  and  I  think  there  is  a 
pretty  good  prospect  that  they  will  succeed.  The  Athenaeum  at  pres 
ent  is  all  the  rage,  and  I  think  there  is  great  probability  q'un  journal 
etabli  sous  ses  auspices  aurait  une  circulation  fort  ttendue*  At  all  events, 
I  shall  make  the  experiment.  Mons.  Hillhoues,  Dr.  Wainwright, 
pre'tre  de  Veglise  Anglicane,  Mom.  Verplanck  ct  beaucoup  d'autres  savans 
de  New  York  se  sont  interesse's  pour  moi  dans  ce  projet,  et  fai  a  ce  que  je 
pense,  sujet  d'espere  que  mon  attentat  necJiouera  pas.  \  Baissez  la  petite 
Fanchette  pour  moi.  Ayez,  je  I'ous  prie,  un  soin  particulier  de  votre  saute" 
et  croyez  moi. 

"  Pour  la  vie, 

"  Avec  la  dernier e  passion, 

"  Votre  ami,  etc., 

"WM.  C.  BRYANT." 

The  attempt  did  fail,  for  some  reason  or  other.  Mr.  Bry 
ant's  reputation  had  preceded  him,  %  and  helped  him  tp  ac- 

*  That  a  journal  established  under  its  auspices  will  have  a  wide  circulation. 

f  Mr.  Hillhouse,  Dr.  Wainwright,  prelate  of  the  English  Church,  Mr.  Verplanck, 
and  many  others  are  very  much  interested  in  my  project,  and  I  have  reason  to  hope 
that  my  attempt  will  not  fail. 

\  No  less,  a  venerable  lady  informs  me  that  at  a  great  conversatione  in  the  house 
of  one  of  the  leaders  of  society,  at  which  she  was  present,  a  gentleman  read  the  "  Wa 
terfowl  "  from  a  newspaper  slip,  and  no  one  present  could  tell  him  the  name  of  the 
author.  So,  Mr.  Coleman,  the  editor  of  the  "  Evening  Post,"  a  sort  of  literary  Aris- 
tarchus,  reprinted  "  Thanatopsis/'  May  n,  1824,  with  these  remarks:  "Hearing  a 


EARLY   UNITARIANISM.  2\\ 

quaintances,  but  it  is  possible  that  his  religious  opinions  stood 
somewhat  in  his  way.  The  Unitarian  sect,  to  which  he  be 
longed,  was  small  in  numbers,  and  not  in  good  odor  with  its 
orthodox  rivals.  Its  first  society  had  been  formed  in  a  parlor 
only  a  few  years  before,  1819,  Mr.  Edward  Everett  preaching 
the  first  sermon,  and  a  year  later,  when  Dr.  Channing  came  on 
from  Boston  to  address  it,  was  refused  admittance  to  any  of 
the  usual  places  of  religious  meeting.  At  length  the  College 
of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  opened  a  room  to  it,  and  thereby 
stirred  up  a  hornet's  nest.*  But  whatever  the  hindrances,  after 
waiting  several  days,  Mr.  Bryant  returned  home  greatly  dis 
appointed. 

A  month  later  he  came  back  to  the  city  to  renew  his  at 
tempt,  and  writing  to  his  wife,  March  23d,  says : 

"  MY  DEAR  FRANCES  :  I  suppose  you  would  like  to  know  whether 
I  broke  my  neck  in  going  out  to  Hudson  last  Thursday.    I  can  assure 

literary  friend,  whose  taste  and  judgment  we  respect,  speak  highly  of  the  poetic  tal 
ents  of  William  Cullen  Bryant,  and  of  his  effusions  published  in  1821,  we  procured 
the  book,  and  now  present  the  following  beautiful  poem,  as  fully  justifying  the 
eulogium." 

*  Dr.  J.  W.  Francis  was  one  of  the  physicians  who  were  bold  enough  to  let  the 
room  to  Dr.  Channing's  friends,  and  in  describing  the  commotion  it  caused,  adds  : 
"  Some  three  days  after  that  memorable  Sunday  I  accidentally  met  the  great  theolog 
ical  thunderbolt  of  the  times,  Dr.  John  M.  Mason,  in  the  book-store  of  that  intelligent 
publisher  and  learned  bibliopole,  James  Eastburn.  Mason  soon  approached  me,  and 
in  earnestness  exclaimed,  '  You  doctors  have  been  engaged  in  a  wrongful  work  ;  you 
have  permitted  heresy  to  come  in  among  us,  and  have  countenanced  its  approach. 
You  have  furnished  accommodations  for  the  devil's  disciples.'  Not  wholly  unhinged, 
I  replied  :  '  We  saw  no  such  great  evil  in  an  act  of  religious  toleration  ;  nor  do  I 
think,'  I  added,  '  that  one  individual  member  is  responsible  for  the  acts  of  an  entire 
corporation.'  'You  are  all  equally  guilty,'  cried  the  doctor,  with  enkindled  warmth. 
4  Do  you  know  what  you  have  done  ?  You  have  advanced  infidelity  by  complying 
with  the  request  of  these  sceptics.'  '  Sir,'  said  I, '  we  hardly  felt  disposed  to  sift  their 
articles  of  belief  as  a  religious  society.'  '  There,  sir,  there  is  the  difficulty,'  exclaimed 
the  doctor.  'Belief;  they  have  no  belief;  they  believe  in  nothing,  having  nothing 
to  believe.  They  are  a  paradox  ;  you  can  not  fathom  them.  How  can  you  fathom 
a  thing  that  has  no  bottom  ? '  I  left  the  doctor  dreadfully  indignant,  uttering  some 
thing  of  the  old  slur  on  the  sceptical  tendencies  of  the  faculty  of  physic." — "Old 
New  York,"  p.  154. 


212  "A  LITERARY  ADVENTURER." 

you  that  it  is  as  sound  at  this  moment  as  your  own,  notwithstanding 
your  prediction.  However,  I  met  with  what  was  almost  an  equiva 
lent.  I  got  wet  by  riding  half  a  mile  in  that  tremendous  thunder- 
shower,  and  afterward  drove  to  Hudson,  a  distance  of  ten  miles,  in  a 
damp  great  coat  and  pantaloons.  I  waked  the  next  morning  giddy 
and  almost  blind  with  a  cold.  I  thought  to  go  to  New  York  in  the 
steamboat  on  Friday,  but  none  went  down  that  day.  Then  I  engaged 
a  passage  in  a  sloop,  and  had  my  baggage  carried  on  board  of  her, 
and  after  waiting  there  from  three  o'clock  till  six  in  the  afternoon, 
during  which  time  I  was  chiefly  employed  in  pulling  at  a  rope  to  help 
get  her  away  from  the  dock,  against  a  strong  northwest  wind,  the  ves 
sel  ran  upon  the  bottom  of  an  old  wharf  in  the  river  and  stuck.  I 
went  back  to  my  quarters  in  the  city.  The  next  day  (Saturday)  the 
Olive  Branch  came  along  about  noon  ;  I  got  on  board  of  her,  and 
Sunday  morning  at  five  o'clock  found  myself  in  this  city. 

"  Here  I  am  trying  to  starve  myself  well,  going  hungry  amid  a  pro 
fusion  of  good  cheer,  and  refusing  to  drink  good  wine  amid  an  ocean 
of  it.  But  all  will  not  do ;  I  am  continually  in  the  steamboat.  Sit 
ting  or  standing,  I  feel  the  roll  and  swell  of  the  water  under  me ;  the 
streets  and  floors  of  houses  swing  from  side  to  side  as  if  they  were 
floating  in  a  sea.  However,  I  am  not  much  alarmed  as  long  as  my 
lungs  are  free  from  the  distemper,  which  they  seem  to  be  hitherto. 
My  negotiations  with  the  '  Atlantic  Magazine  '  are  going  on,  but  I  do 
not  know  exactly  what  will  come  of  them.  .  .  .  Mr.  Hillhouse's  '  Ha- 
dad '  is  out.  He  has  presented  me  with  a  copy,  which  I  shall  bring 
up  with  me.  .  .  .  Monday  evening  I  was  at  one  of  the  soirees  of  Dr. 
Hosack.  There  was  a  crowd  of  literary  men — citizens  and  strangers 
— in  fine  apartments  splendidly  furnished,  hung  with  pictures,  etc.  I 
saw  Captain  Franklin  among  others,  who  is  just  arrived  from  Europe, 
and  is  going  on  another  Polar  Expedition,  by  land.*  Two  other  gen 
tlemen  of  the  expedition  were  with  him.  He  does  not  look  like  a 
man  who  has  suffered  the  hardships  of  which  his  narrative  gives  an 
account.  He  is  square  built,  rather  short,  inclining  to  corpulency, 
with  the  complexion  of  a  shoemaker.  Kiss  Fanchette  for  me. 
"Your  affectionate  husband, 

"W.  C.  BRYANT." 

*  This  was  Sir  John  Franklin  on  his  second  voyage  to  the  Arctic  Seas. 


"THE  NEW   YORK  REVIEW."  213 

The  "  Atlantic  Magazine,"  here  spoken  of,  a  monthly 
periodical  which  had  been  established  in  1824  under  the 
charge  of  Mr.  Robert  C.  Sands,  was  now  in  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Henry  J.  Anderson,  and  leading  a  precarious  life.  It 
was  proposed  to  amalgamate  it  with  an  earlier  periodical, 
called  the  "  Literary  Review,"  and  issue  them  under  the 
name  'of  the  "  New  York  Review  and  Athenseum  Maga 
zine,"  with  Mr.  Anderson  and  Mr.  Bryant  as  editors,  and 
"the  co-operation  of  several  gentlemen,  amply  qualified,  to 
furnish  the  departments  of  Intelligence,  Poetry,  and  Fiction." 
This  arrangement  was  carried  into  effect,  and  the  first  num 
ber  of  the  new  review  was  announced  to  appear  in  June. 
Enclosing  a  prospectus  to  Mr.  Dana,  in  April,  Mr.  Bryant 
wrote,  not  very  hopefully :  "  I  have  given  up  my  profes 
sion,  which  was  a  shabby  one,  and  I  am  not  altogether 
certain  that  I  have  got  into  a  better.  Bliss  &  White,  how 
ever,  the  publishers  of  the  '  New  York  Review,'  employ 
me,  which  at  present  will  be  a  livelihood,  and  a  livelihood 
is  all  I  got  from  the  law."  Dana,  in  response,  promised 
him  every  sort  of  assistance,  and,  as  an  earnest  of  his  pur 
pose,  enclosed  a  contribution  which  he  called  "  The  Dying 
Crow."  Dana's  letter,  dated  Cambridge,  April  I5th,  dis 
closes  a  bit  of  literary  history,  showing  that,  although  the 
older  man  considerably,  he  was  yet  much  the  younger  poet. 
He  says : 

"I  send  you  my  first  attempt — perhaps  my  last — in  blank  verse. 
I  may  as  well  say  in  verse,  for  I  never  wrote  thirty  lines  before  in  any 
measure.  It  may  be  too  long;  though,  as  it  is  a  musing,  meditative 
affair,  I  do  not  know  that  such  an  objection  holds  against  it.  At  any 
rate,  I  would  not  go  through  the  toil  of  compressing  it.  ...  Does 
the  movement  offend  thee,  thou  veteran  in  verse?  The  truth  is, 
though  I  have  read  a  good  deal  of  poetry,  and  been  delighted  with 
its  music,  I  never  thought  or  cared  about  its  rules.  So  I  came  to  my 
work  raw  and  ignorant.  Though  I  have  said  so  much  about  my 
1  Crow,'  you  must  not  think  that  I  expect  you,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
to  show  him  to  the  public.  .  .  . 


214  "A  LITERARY  ADVENTURER." 

11  What  a  magnificent  hymn  you  wrote  for  the  last  '  Literary  Ga 
zette'!"* 

Before  this  letter  was  received,  Mr.  Bryant  had  gone  to 
Great  Barring-ton,  to  settle  up  the  remnants  of  his  business, 
and  to  provide  a  home  for  his  little  family  during  the  sum 
mer.  It  was  impossible  for  him,  however,  to  take  a  final  leave 
of  the  grand  old  woods,  which  for  ten  years  had  been  the 
sanctuaries  of  his  musings,  and  which  perhaps  he  might  never 
see  again,  at  least  on  the  familiar  footing  of  the  past,  without 
offering  to  the  Mightiest,  amid  their  majestic  solitudes,  "  his 
solemn  thanks  and  supplications."  As  he  walked  the  col 
umned  aisles  beneath  the  verdant  roof,  hearing  only  the  soft 
winds  that  ran  along  the  summit  of  the  trees  in  music,  he  sang 
in  grave  and  measured  language  his  "  Forest  Hymn,"  pouring 
out  his  soul  in  worship  to  that  universal  Spirit  which  others, 
less  simple  and  austere,  find  only  in  houses  made  with  hands. 
On  his  return  to  the  city  he  took  lodgings  with  a  French 
family,  of  which  he  gives  this  account  (May  24th) : 

"My  DEAR  FRANCES:  I  am  now  boarding  at  M.  Evrard's.  The 
family  speak  only  French,  and  what  is  better,  very  good  French ;  and 
what  is  better  yet,  are  very  kind  and  amiable  people.  Mr.  E.  is  a 
bigoted  Catholic,  and  is  taking  great  pains  to  convert  me  to  the  true 
and  ancient  faith.  I  have  been  so  far  wrought  upon  by  his  argu 
ments  that  I  went  yesterday  to  vespers  in  St.  Peter's  Church ;  but  my 
convictions  were  not  sufficiently  strong  to  induce  me  to  kneel  at  the 
elevation  of  the  host.  As  I  have  a  great  respect  for  family  prayer 
among  all  denominations  of  Christians,  I  intend  asking  M.  Evrard 
the  favor  of  being  permitted  to  attend  his.  On  these  occasions,  it  is 
said,  he  utters  with  inconceivable  rapidity  a  long  list  of  such  petitions 
as  the  following : 

'  Sainte  Marie,  priez  pour  moi, 

Chaste  Vierge,  priez  pour  moi, 

Mere  adorable,  priez  pour  moi, 

Mere  de  Dieu,  priez  pour  moi.' 

*  The  "  Forest  Hymn."     Mr.  Bryant  was  still  a  writer  for  the  "  Gazette,"  though 
Mr.  Parsons  had  yielded  the  control  to  others. 


DANA'S  FIRST  POETR  Y.  215 

"  I  have  had  one  or  two  turns  of  being  a  little  homesick  since  I 
have  been  here,  but  I  think  if  you  and  Francis  were  with  me  I  should 
pass  my  time  quite  as  pleasantly,  to  say  the  least,  as  I  did  in  Great 
Barrington.  In  the  mean  time  I  have  become  a  great  church-goer; 
I  went  three  times  yesterday,  including  the  Roman  Catholic  service, 
which  is  more,  I  believe,  than  I  have  done  before  these  ten  years." 

To  Dana's  letter,  which  arrived  in  his  absence,  he  replied 
the  next  day,  25th: 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  On  coming  to  New  York  about  a  week  since,  I 
found  two  letters  from  you  which  seemed  from  their  dates  to  have 
been  waiting  for  me  some  time.  In  one  of  them  I  was  very  glad  to 
find  a  contribution  in  verse  for  my  magazine.  I  am  surprised  after 
reading  it  to  hear  you  say  that  you  never  wrote  thirty  lines  before  in 
any  measure.  You  have  come  into  your  poetical  existence  in  full 
strength,  like  the  first  man.  Not  that  I  was  surprised  to  find  the 
conceptions  beautiful — that  I  was  prepared  for,  as  a  matter  of  course 
— but  you  write  quite  like  a  practiced  poet.  The  printer  has  got  it, 
and  you  shall  see  your  first-born  in  print  next  week.  It  will  be  ad 
mired,  without  doubt.  The  only  fault  I  find  with  it  is,  that  you  give 
rather  too  many  magnificent  titles  to  a  bird  the  popular  associations 
connected  with  which  are  not  generally  of  the  dignified  kind  you 
mention.  I  can  speak  also  of  his  character  from  my  own  experience, 
having  once  kept  a  tame  crow,  and  found  him  little  better  than  a 
knave,  a  thief,  and  a  coward.  As  for  the  trochees,  etc.,  never  fash 
your  mind  about  them.  They  are  well  enough.  I  would  not  alter 
them  if  it  could  be  done  without  injuring  the  beauty  of  the  expres 
sion.  I  hope  to  receive  more  favors  of  the  same  kind  from  you. 
Choose  a  subject  worthy  of  your  genius,  and  you  will  do  nobly.  In 
the  mean  time,  if  you  have  any  prose  that  you  can  spare,  I  should  be 
very  glad  to  publish  it  in  my  journal.  ...  I  suspect  that  in  the  course 
of  the  week  we  shall  be  sorely  perplexed  to  get  matter  for  the  miscel 
laneous  department.  A  talent  for  such  articles  is  quite  rare  in  this 
country,  and  particularly  in  this  city.  There  are  many  who  can  give 
grave,  sensible  discussions  on  subjects  of  general  utility,  but  few  who 
can  write  an  interesting  or  diverting  article  for  a  miscellany.  .  .  , 

"  I  do  not  know  how  long  my  connection  with  this  work  will  con- 


2i6  "A   LITERARY  ADVENTURER." 

\ 

tinue.  My  salary  is  $1,000;  no  great  sum,  to  be  sure,  but  it  is  twice 
what  I  got  by  my  practice  in  the  country.  Besides,  my  dislike  for 
my  profession  was  augmenting  daily,  and  my  residence  in  Great  Bar- 
rington,  in  consequence  of  innumerable  quarrels  and  factions  which 
were  springing  up  every  day  among  an  extremely  excitable  and  not 
very  enlightened  population,  had  become  quite  disagreeable  to  me. 
It  cost  me  more  pain  and  perplexity  than  it  was  worth  to  live  on 
friendly  terms  with  my  neighbors  ;  and,  not  having,  as  I  flatter  my 
self,  any  great  taste  for  contention,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  get  out  of 
it  as  soon  as  I  could  and  come  to  this  great  city,  where,  if  it  was  my 
lot  to  starve,  I  might  starve  peaceably  and  quietly.  The  business  of 
sitting  in  judgment  on  books  as  they  come  out  is  not  the  literary  em 
ployment  the  most  to  my  taste,  nor  that  for  which  I  am  best  fitted, 
but  it  affords  me,  for  the  present,  a  certain  compensation,  which  is  a 
matter  of  some  consequence  to  a  poor  devil  like  myself." 

Again  in  a  few  days  (May  28th)  Mr.  Bryant  recurs  to  the 
same  subject : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  You  will  see  in  the  copy  of  our  magazine  (for 
June)  which  I  send  you,  that  I  have  changed  your  crow  to  a  raven. 
I  do  not  know  how  you  will  like  the  metamorphosis,  but  it  is  a  change 
only  of  the  title  of  your  poem,  and  I  have  not  ventured  to  take  any 
such  liberty  with  the  verses.  My  reason  for  doing  this  was  that  the 
title  was  not  a  taking  one;  Anderson  was  of  the  same  opinion,  and 
urged  me  strongly  to  make  the  alteration  ;  and  Mr.  Halleck  (author 
of '  Fanny,'  etc.),  to  whom  it  was  shown,  while  he  admired  the  beauty 
of  the  poetry,  thought  the  title  unfortunate.  The  raven  is  a  North 
American  bird,  common  in  the  interior  of  the  United  States,  and  nat 
uralists  say  that  his  habits  are  similar  to  those  of  the  crow.  I  hope 
you  will  forgive  the  liberty  I  have  taken,  as  it  was  only  with  a  view  to 
draw  to  your  poem  the  attention  it  deserves.  You  will  appear  in  our 
magazine  in  company  with  Mr.  Halleck.  The  poem  entitled  *  Marco 
Bozzaris '  was  written  by  him,  and  I  think  is  a  very  beautiful  thing. 
Anderson  was  so  delighted  with  it — he  got  it  from  the  author  after 
much  solicitation — that  he  could  not  forbear  adding  the  expression 
of  his  admiration  at  the  end  of  the  poem.  For  my  part,  though  I  en 
tirely  agree  with  him  in  his  opinion  of  the  beauty  of  the  poem,  I  have 


A   GOOD  CATHOLIC. 

my  doubts  whether  it  is  not  better  to  let  the  poetry  of  magazines  com- 
i.iend  itself  to  the  reader  by  its  own  excellence.  The  lines  which  fol 
low  yours  were  written  by  your  humble  servant."* 

To  his  wife  he  writes,  June  30! : 

"  MY  DEAR  FRANCES  :  I  send  you  by  Mr.  Charles  Sedgwick,  who 
is  about  setting  out  for  Lenox,  the  first  number  of  the  '  New  York 
Review,'  which  he  has  kindly  undertaken  to  put  into  the  post-office 
there  along  with  this  letter.  I  think  it  is  a  pretty  good  number.  I 
speak  with  reference  to  the  articles  which  I  did  not  write  myself.  .  .  . 
Our  subscription  list  is  going  on  pretty  well ;  we  have  already  about 
five  hundred  in  the  city  and  one  hundred  in  the  country,  besides  the 
Boston  subscribers  of  which  no  return  has  yet  been  made.  .  .  .  This 
v.-eek  has  been  a  chapter  of  terrible  accidents  in  New  York.  Last 
Friday  a  Swiss  who  had  just  arrived  in  this  country  was  murdered 
by  two  of  his  fellow-passengers.  Yesterday  morning  at  six  o'clock 
the  boiler  of  one  of  the  steamboats  plying  between  this  city  and 
Brunswick  exploded  at  the  wharf,  as  she  was  just  setting  out  with  one 
hundred  passengers  on  board,  and  four  of  the  hands  were  scalded  to 
death  and  others  badly  injured ;  and  this  morning  about  two  o'clock 
a  Mr.  Lambert,  returning  from  a  party  a  little  out  of  the  city,  with 
some  of  his  friends,  was  assaulted  by  a  party  of  drunken  apprentices, 
and  a  fray  ensued  in  which  he  was  killed.f 

"  I  like  my  boarding-house  better  and  better.  It  is  almost  impos 
sible  to  conceive  of  a  man  of  more  goodness  of  heart  and  rectitude 
of  principle  than  M.  Evrard.  He  is  very  religious,  very  charitable, 
and  very  honest — a  proof  of  the  utter  folly  and  presumption  of  all 
those  who  arrogate  to  their  own  sect  the  exclusive  title  of  Christians. 
Here  is  a  bigoted  Catholic — a  man  who  believes  that  miracles  are 
wrought  by  good  men  at  this  late  day;  who  kneels  to  the  consecrated 
wafer  as  to  the  body  of  God  himself;  and  who  invokes  saints  and 
angels  to  pray  for  him — and  yet  his  religion,  mistaken  as  it  is  in  these 
points,  is  as  full  of  piety  toward  God  and  kindness  to  his  neighbor  as 
that  of  any  man  I  ever  knew,  while  it  is  much  more  amiable  and 
cheerful  than  that  of  many  sects.  On  the  whole,  I  think  that  ^  good 
Catholic  is  quite  as  good  as  &  good  Calvinist" 

*  "A  Song  of  Pitcairn's  Island." 

f  Rather  startling  incidents  for  an  emigrant  from  a  quiet  country  village. 


21 8  "A  LITERARY  ADVENTURER." 

The  next  week  (June  12)  he  continued  his  reports: 

"  MY  DEAR  FRANCES  :  I  envy  you  very  much  the  pure  air,  the 
breezes,  the  shade,  and  the  coolness  which  you  must  enjoy  in  the 
country,  while  I  am  sweltering  under  a  degree  of  heat  which  I  never 
experienced  in  my  whole  lifetime  for  so  long  a  period.  For  six  days 
the  thermometer  has  hardly  been  below  80°,  day  or  night.  I  cannot 
write  except  in  the  morning,  when  the  air  is  a  little  cooler ;  but  in 
the  middle  of  the  day,  when  the  thermometer  is  at  85°  or  87°  Fahr., 
it  is  almost  impossible  to  call  up  resolution  enough  even  to  read. 
Yesterday,  in  the  afternoon,  I  rode  a  few  miles  into  the  country;  I 
found  it  worse,  if  possible,  than  the  city.  The  roads  were  full  of 
carts,  barouches,  chaises,  hacks,  and  people  on  horseback  passing 
each  other ;  and  a  thick  cloud  of  dust  lay  above  the  road  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  follow  it.  It  was  almost  impossible  to  breathe  the  stifling 
element. 

"  Along  with  these  inconveniences,  however,  there  is  one  advan 
tage  which,  to  me,  is  of  considerable  importance.  The  nights  are 
very  dry.  I  do  not  perceive  that  the  night  air  is  at  all  more  damp 
than  that  of  the  day.  There  is  a  window  at  the  head  of  my  bed,  and 
I  have  slept  with  it  wide  open  for  six  nights  past  without  experienc 
ing  the  least  inconvenience — without  perceiving  anything  like  that 
current  of  moist  air  which  in  the  country  you  always  feel  coming 
from  an  open  window  in  the  stillest  nights.  A  cough  which  I  have 
had  hanging  upon  my  lungs  ever  since  last  March  has  left  me  en 
tirely.  Upon  the  whole,  I  think  that  a  change  of  climate  is  likely  to 
prove  rather  beneficial  to  my  health  than  otherwise.  I  lodge  in 
Chambers  Street,  near  the  Unitarian  Church,  which,  of  course,  I  at 
tend  pretty  regularly.  M.  Evrard,  my  host,  has  lived  here  twenty 
years,  and  during  that  time  no  epidemic  fever  has  prevailed  in  this 
quarter.  His  house  is  at  some  distance  from  that  part  of  the  city  in 
which  the  yellow  fever  made  so  many  victims  a  few  years  since.  The 
North  River  is  at  a  short  distance  from  us.  I  see  it  whenever  I  put 
my  head  cut  of  the  window ;  and  whenever  the  wind  is  westerly  it 
comes  to  us  from  over  a  body  of  water  several  miles  in  width.  ..." 

His  work  on  the  "  Review  "  was  rather  more  laborious  than 
he  had  anticipated.  Mr.  Anderson,  his  colleague,  and  Mr. 
Sands,  who  was  now  joined  with  them,  were  both  active  writ- 


DARK  PROSPECTS. 


2I9 


crs,  but  the  laboring  oar  fell  to  his  hands.  He  had  complained 
of  the  drudgery  of  the  law,  and  now  found  himself  involved 
in  drudgery  of  another  kind  quite  as  trying.  To  read  and 
give  an  account  of  trashy  novels  and  flimsy  verses ;  to  prune 
and  patch  the  manuscripts  of  ambitious  but  inexperienced 
writers ;  to  provide  essays,  tales,  and  poems  of  his  own — were 
by  no  means  agreeable  tasks.  Besides,  the  city  was  insuffer 
ably  hot,  dirty,  and  stuffy,  and  he  missed  his  rambles  in  the 
woods.  Still,  he  put  as  good  a  face  upon  it  as  he  could,  and 
says  to  Mrs.  Bryant,  the  latter  part  of  June : 

"  Notwithstanding  the  heat,  the  noise,  and  the  unpleasant  odors  of 
the  city,  I  think  that  if  you  and  Frances  were  with  me  I  should  pass 
my  time  here  much  more  pleasantly  than  at  Great  Barrington.  I  am 
obliged  to  be  pretty  industrious,  it  is  true,  but  that  is  well  enough. 
In  the  mean  time,  I  am  not  plagued  with  the  disagreeable,  disgusting 
drudgery  of  the  law ;  and,  what  is  still  better,  am  aloof  from  those 
miserable  feuds  and  wranglings  that  make  Great  Barrington  an  un 
pleasant  residence,  even  to  him  who  tries  every  method  in  his  power 
to  avoid  them." 

He  speaks  encouragingly,  but  he  was  in  reality  despond 
ent.  The  prospects  of  the  "Review"  were  not  bright;  he 
was  very  much  alone ;  and  his  heart  was  ever  going  back  to 
his  mountains.  His  mood  is  indicated  in  those  sweet  and  pen 
sive  lines  on  "June" — gentle  aspirations  destined  to  become  a 
prophecy — wherein  he  hopes  his  grave  at  least  shall  be  made 
in  the  season  of  flowers  and  singing  birds,  and  where, 

" — through  the  long,  long  summer  hours 

The  golden  light  should  lie, 
And  thick  young  herbs  and  groups  of  flowers 
Stand  in  their  beauty  by." 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  him,  in  the  latter  part  of  June  and 
July,  to  be  able  to  make  a  flying  visit  to  Cummington,  and, 
standing  on  his  native  hills  again,  while  the  mountain  wind, 
most  spiritual  thing  of  all  the  wide  earth  knows,  lifted  his 


220  "A  LITERARY  ADVENTURER." 

brown  locks,  to  indulge  in  the  grand  reveries  that  appear  in 
"  The  Skies,"  and  the  "  Lines  on  Revisiting  the  Country." 

He  was  more  contented  with  the  city  when  his  family 
joined  him  in  the  autumn,  for  he  was  less  solitary.  His  habits, 
to  say  nothing  of  his  reserve  and  diffidence,  withheld  him  from 
miscellaneous  companionships.  What  leisure  his  labors  on  the 
"  Review  "  left  him  he  devoted  to  perfecting  his  knowledge  of 
French  and  Provengal,  and  to  the  acquisition  of  the  Italian, 
Spanish,  and  Portuguese  languages.  He  had  his  intimacies, 
but  they  were  few.  Cooper  and  Verplanck  were  occasional 
visitors ;  Anderson  attracted  him  by  his  profound  and  various 
knowledge  and  courteous  manners ;  and  Sands's  acquisitions 
and  humor  rendered  his  fellowship  delightful.  With  William 
Ware,  the  Unitarian  clergyman,  whose  refinement  and  culture 
were  afterward  so  beautifully  exhibited  in  "Zenobia,"  "Pro- 
bus,"  and  "  Julian,"  he  formed  a  lifelong  friendship.  And  there 
were  others  to  whom  he  may  be  said  to  have  attached  himself 
as  a  class — the  artists.  They  were  men  for  the  most  part  like 
himself — of  great  simplicity  of  character,  fond  of  the  beauties 
of  nature,  and  struggling,  in  the  midst  of  poverty  and  untoward 
circumstances,  to  win  a  place,  however  humble,  for  themselves 
and  their  country  in  the  higher  walks  of  intellectual  exertion. 
In  their  company  he  was  at  home ;  they  made  him  a  member 
of  their  little  societies  and  conclaves  ;  he  took  part  in  all  their 
efforts  to  bring  the  fine  arts  forward  in  the  estimation  of  an 
indifferent  or  ungenial  public,  and,  by  his  persistent  advocacy 
of  their  claims  at  that  early  day,  helped  to  gain  for  them  the 
high  repute  they  now  enjoy. 

How  patiently  and  faithfully  he  discharged  his  duties  of 
editor  may  be  seen  in  this  letter  of  September  ist  to  his  friend 
Dana : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR:  I  intended  answering  your  letter  before  this,  but 
I  have  been  exceedingly  lazy  and  somewhat  hurried  during  the  hot 
weather  that  has  continued  almost  ever  since  I  received  it.  I  have 
found  time,  however,  to  look  over  the  lines  you  sent  me,  and,  as  you 
seemed  to  give  me  leave  to  make  some  alterations,  I  have  in  particular 


A   GLIMPSE  OF  COOPER.  22l 

taken  the  liberty,  whenever  I  found  you  out  of  the  pale  which  the  law 
givers  of  versification  have  put  up  to  confine  poets  in,  to  catch  you 
and  bring  you  back,  and  put  on  your  fetters  again.  There  ar,e  two 
lines  which  I  am  confident  you  left  on  purpose  to  try  me : 

'O'er  hills,  through  leafy  woods,  and  leafless; 
To  me,  who  love  the  stream  to  trace,  etc.'* 

I  tried  by  reading  these  lines  over  and  over  to  make  them  agree  in 
time  and  measure;  but,  finding  that  impossible,  I  altered  them,  and  in 
doing  this  was  obliged  to  alter  several  of  the  neighboring  lines.  I 
must  confess  that  you  had  one  good  reason — I  have  written  good  rea 
son — but  that  is  wrong — you  had  one  apology  for  leaving  the  lines  as 
they  were — namely,  the  difficulty  of  making  them  otherwise. 

"  I  have  also  ventured  to  make  some  changes  where  the  sentences 
were  continued  from  one  couplet  to  the  beginning  of  another,  or 
where  they  began  near  the  end  of  one  couplet  and  were  continued  to 
the  middle  of  the  next — a  practice  sometimes  exceedingly  graceful  in 
the  heroic  measure,  but  which,  if  frequently  introduced  in  octo 
syllabic  verse,  produces  harshness.  In  other  cases  where  I  thought 
the  idea  not  sufficiently  brought  out,  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to 
amplify  it  a  little.  But  you  will  see  all  the  mutilations  I  have  made 
when  you  receive  the  journal,  which  I  will  send  on  the  heels  of  this 
letter. 

"  One  thing  I  have  done  :  I  have  respected  the  thoughts  in  all  the 
alterations  I  have  made,  and  it  is  a  great  excellence  of  your  verses  that 
they  are  full  of  thought.  You  are,  however,  more  at  home  in  blank 
verse  than  rhyme — at  least,  you  are  so  in  the  specimens  you  have  sent 
me. 

"  I  saw  Cooper  yesterday.  He  is  printing  a  novel  entitled  '  The 
Last  of  the  Mohicans.'  The  first  volume  is  nearly  finished.  You  tell 
me  that  I  must  review  him  next  time  myself.  Ah,  sir !  he  is  too  sen 
sitive  a  creature  for  me  to  touch.  He  seems  to  think  his  own  works 
his  own  property,  instead  of  being  the  property  of  the  public,  to  whom 
he  has  given  them ;  and  it  is  almost  as  difficult  to  praise  or  blame 
them  in  the  right  place  as  it  was  to  praise  or  blame  Goldsmith  prop 
erly  in  the  presence  of  Johnson." 

*  Fragment  of  an  Epistle. 


222  "A   LITERARY  ADVENTURER." 

Again,  he  writes  to  Dana  in  January,  1826: 

"  I  like  your  poem  very  much.  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  dis 
cover  the  popular  name  of  your  bird,*  but  I  wish  you  would  take  the 
trouble  to  make  a  little  change  in  the  metrical  construction  of  it,  and 
send  me  the  alterations  in  your  next.  I  refer  to  the  following  lines : 

"  *  With  the  motion  and  roar 
Of  waves  driving  to  shore.' 

And  also, 

"  *  To  thy  spirit  no  more 

Come  with  me,  quit  the  shore 
For  the  joy  and  the  light 
When  the  summer  birds  sing/ 

These  lines  do  not  correspond  in  measure  with  the  lines  which  occupy 
the  same  place  in  the  other  stanzas.  All  other  lines  in  the  poem  are 
such  as  the  ear  will  acknowledge  for  iambics,  but  these  are  in  a  kind 
of  tripping  measure,  which  is  not  in  harmony  with  the  rest  of  the 
poem,  and  is  disagreeable  from  its  unexpectedness.  Besides,  they  do 
not,  as  it  seems  to  me,  suit  with  the  general  solemn  and  plaintive  effect 
of  the  whole.  Cannot  you  substitute  iambics  for  these  ?  The  abbre 
viation  long  I  should  be  glad  to  see  altered,  for  it  is  certainly  an  inno 
vation  ;  but  if  you  insist  upon  it  I  shall  retain  it.  f 

"  It  is  true,  as  you  say,  that  there  is  a  want  of  literary  entertainment 
in  our  journal.  But  as  to  the  multitude  of  clever  men  here  who  might 
furnish  it,  let  me  say  that  we  have  some  clever  men  to  be  sure,  but 
they  are  naughtily  given  to  instructing  the  world,  to  elucidating  the 
mysteries  of  political  economy  and  the  principles  of  jurisprudence, 
etc. ;  they  seem  to  think  it  a  sort  of  disgrace  to  be  entertaining. 
Since  the  time  of  Salmagundi,  the  city  has  grown  exceedingly  grave 
and  addicted  to  solid  speculations.  Paulding  sometimes  writes  for 
our  magazine,  and  we  pick  up  the  rest  of  it  as  well  as  we  can." 

*  It  is  now  entitled  "  The  Little  Beach  Bird." 
\  These  lines  now  stand  : 

"  With  the  motion  and  the  roar 
Of  waves  that  drive  to  shore." 
And, 

"  And  on  the  meadow  light 
When  birds  for  gladness  sing." 


LECTURES  ON  POETRY. 


223 


In  the  autumn  of  1825  Mr.  Bryant  had  been  invited  by  the 
Athenseum  Society  to  deliver  a  series  of  lectures  on  "  Poetry," 
and,  having  accepted  the  invitation,  he  prepared  four  lectures 
for  delivery  in  the  April  following.  The  more  prominent 
residents  of  the  city  were  making  a  systematic  effort  to  raise 
its  intellectual  tone  and  scope,  and  for  that  purpose  organized 
courses  of  lectures  on  many  subjects.  Professor  Charles  An- 
thon  was  engaged  to  discourse  on  "  Roman  Writers,"  Profes 
sor  Renwick  on  "  Chemistry,"  Professor  McVickar  on  "  Taste 
and  Beauty,"  Mr.  S.  F.  B.  Morse  on  "  Painting,"  Mr.  William 
Beach  Lawrence  on  "  Political  Economy,"  and  Dr.  John 
Frederick  Schroeder  on  "  Oriental  Literature."  *  Mr.  Bryant 
could  not,  of  course,  in  the  brief  compass  allowed  him,  pretend 
to  give  anything  like  an  exhaustive  or  complete  view  of  the  old 
est  and  most  prolific  of  the  arts — the  very  literature  of  which 
fills  volumes,  if  not  libraries.  As,  moreover,  his  lectures  were 
intended  to  be  merely  a  popular  defence  and  recommendation 
of  Poetry  as  one  of  the  grand  means  of  human  culture,  and 
not  to  be  addressed  to  adepts  or  even  students,  they  required 
no  elaborate  discussions  of  its  philosophy,  conceived  either  in 
the  spirit  of  the  English  school  of  Addison,  Kames,  and  Blair, 
or  of  the  more  recent  and  deeper  aesthetics  of  the  Germans. 
He  could  not  so  much  as  dwell  upon  its  technical  rules,  or  the 
history  of  its  development,  or  the  characteristics  of  different 
countries  and  ages,  or  even  the  merits  and  defects  of  the  great 
writers  by  whom  it  had  been  most  signally  illustrated,  and  he 
therefore  confined  himself  to  a  brief  consideration  of  its  nature, 
its  influences,  and  its  relations  to  the  general  progress  of  man 
kind.  As  these  elementary  views  will  probably  be  printed  in 
his  collected  works,  I  give  no  analysis  of  them.  Suffice  it  to 

*  Some  of  the  lectures  at  the  Athenceum  were  not  without  results.  Among  the 
lecturers  was  Professor  James  Freeman  Dana,  of  New  Haven,  whose  subject  was 
"  Electro-Magnetism,"  a  science  then  in  its  infancy  ;  and  among  the  hearers  was  S. 
F.  B.  Morse,  the  artist,  whose  thoughts,  already  turned  to  the  possibility  of  utilizing 
the  electric  current,  took  a  shape  which  a  few  years  later  issued  in  the  Electro-Mag 
netic  Telegraph. — "  Life  of  Morse,"  p.  161.  New  York  :  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1874. 


224  "A  LITERARY  ADVENTURER:' 

say  that  his  several  topics  were  handled  with  clearness,  in 
sight,  and  facility  as  well  as  amplitude  of  illustration.  The 
discussions,  though  not  profound  as  we  should  now  esteem 
them,  gave  occasion  for  many  happy  and  instructive  remarks, 
and,  as  an  expression  of  the  views  of  a  master  on  important 
phases  of  his  own  peculiar  walk,  they  are  suggestive  and  inter 
esting. 

While  delivering  these  lectures,  Mr.  Bryant  was  also  ac 
tive  in  another  and  kindred  movement.  There  had  been  for 
years  in  New  York  an  institution  called  the  American  Acad 
emy  of  Art,  of  which  Jonathan  Trumbull  was  President,  and 
Chancellor  Livingston,  De  Witt  Clinton,  and  other  conspicu 
ous  citizens  were  members.  It  gave  yearly  exhibitions  of  pic 
tures,  mostly  borrowed  from  private  owners,  and  it  professed 
to  furnish  instruction  in  an  irregular  way  to  students  in  the 
elements  of  drawing.  The  artists  were  dissatisfied  with  it  as 
a  representative  of  their  body,  not  only  because  its  means  of 
education  were  inadequate,  but  because  it  was  almost  exclu 
sively  managed  by  laymen.  To  supply  its  deficiencies,  they 
organized  at  first  a  simple  Drawing  Association  (November  8, 
1825),  which  met  in  the  old  Almshouse  building,  behind  the 
City  Hall.  This  soon  expanded  (January  18,  1826)  into  the 
more  ambitious  enterprise  of  a  National  Academy  of  the  Arts 
of  Design.  Mr.  S.  F.  B.  Morse,  one  of  the  most  active  promo 
ters  of  the  scheme,  was  chosen  the  first  President  of  it,  and 
Messrs.  Durand,  Dunlap,  Inman,  Cummings,  Ingham,  Agate, 
and  a  few  others  composed  the  membership.  It  opened  schools, 
gave  exhibitions,  and  instituted  a  series  of  lectures  on  anatomy, 
perspective  and  cognate  subjects,  among  which  mythology 
and  history,  in  their  relation  to  the  plastic  arts,  were  included. 
In  1826  Mr.  Bryant  was  appointed  one  of  the  professors  of 
the  new  academy.  When  he  began  his  labors  does  not  appear 
on  the  records,  but  he  read  to  the  classes  five  lectures  on  "  My 
thology"  in  December,  1827,  which  were  repeated  in  Febru 
ary,  1828;  again  in  January,  1829,  and  finally  in  November, 
1831.  This  continuance  of  them  through  five  years  would 


LECTURES  ON  MYTHOLOGY.  22$ 

show  how  highly  they  were  estimated,  if  we  had  not  the  grate 
ful  votes  of  the  Academy  testifying  to  their  worth.  Confining 
his  treatment  to  the  Greek  and  Roman  mythology,  and  to  the 
Dii  Majorum  Gentium  in  this,  the  lecturer  gave  the  fullest  his 
torical  details  within  his  sphere  of  the  origin  and  growth  of 
the  ancient  faiths,  accompanied  by  such  allegorical  interpreta 
tions  as  they  had  suggested  to  former  writers  or  to  his  own 
fancy.  He  has  succeeded  wonderfully  in  compressing  the 
wide,  weltering,  almost  chaotic  mass  into  a  consistent  and  in 
telligible  form,  and  imparting  life,  beauty,  and  meaning  to  the 
stories  which  have  come  down  to  us  rather  as  crude,  gro 
tesque,  and  indecent  fantasies  than  as  "  the  fair  humanities  of 
old  religion."  * 

Meantime  the  "  Review  "  was  getting  on  as  it  could — that 
is,  not  swimmingly.  Compared  with  the  ample  dimensions 
and  vivacious  contents  of  our  later  periodicals,  with  "  The 
Century  "  and  "  Harper's,"  it  was  but  a  meagre  and  dull  affair. 

*  The  distinction  with  which  he  opens  the  first  lecture  I  think  worth  preserving : 
44  The  Painter  and  the  Sculptor,"  he  says,  44  are  connected  with  the  ancients,  with 
their  religion  and  with  their  notions  of  all  that  is  noble  and  beautiful  in  humanity,  by 
nearer  ties  than  any  other  students  of  antiquity— nearer  than  even  the  Poet  or  the 
Philosopher.  You  live  among  the  remains  of  the  ancient  world,  and,  with  the  crea 
tions  of  ancient  genius  before  your  eyes,  you  copy  the  noble  features  moulded  by  the 
old  artists  ;  you  imitate  forms  that  were  wondered  at  and  worshipped  in  the  age  in 
which  they  were  produced — attitudes  and  faces  which  even  yet  inspire  the  beholder 
with  a  sort  of  religious  awe,  seem  to  fill  the  air  around  them  with  the  emanations  of 
their  own  superhuman  beauty.  On  the  other  hand,  between  the  modern  student  and 
the  fathers  of  ancient  history  a  veil  is  interposed  which  is  never  wholly  withdrawn — 
the  veil  of  a  dead  language.  He  must  labor  long  and  severely  before  he  can  sur 
mount  this  difficulty.  He  is  detained  in  things  which  have  no  connection  with  the 
pure  spirit  of  ancient  literature— in  grammatical  rules,  the  meaning  of  words,  and 
forms  of  construction.  It  is  as  if  you  had  to  acquire  the  sense  of  sight  by  a  surgical 
operation  before  you  could  look  upon  the  remains  of  ancient  sculpture  around  you. 
After  all  his  labor  he  must  content  himself  with  incomplete  conceptions  of  the  pathos, 
the  force  and  harmony  shrined  in  the  majestic  but  disused  dialects  which  he  studies 
— dialects  which  to  no  man  in  modern  times  convey  the  ideas  they  express  with  that 
grace  and  energy  which  belongs  to  the  language  of  his  birth.  If  he  recurs  to  trans 
lations,  he  is  still  more  unfortunate,  for  these  are  but  shadows  of  their  glorious  origi 
nals." 

VOL.  i. — 1C 


226  "A  LITERARY  ADVENTURER." 

It  wanted,  I  think,  distinctiveness,  perhaps  aggressiveness  of 
character.  Many  of  the  disquisitions  were  heavy,  and  the 
criticisms,  though  sensible,  were  not  pungent.*  It  was,  no 
doubt,  as  good  as  any  of  its  contemporaries,  even  the  "  North 
American,"  on  which  it  was  modelled.  In  one  respect,  its 
poetry,  it  far  surpassed  them  all.  Of  Mr  Bryant's  own  works 
it  contained :  "  The  Song  of  Pitcairn's  Island,"  "  The  Skies," 
"  Lines  on  Revisiting  the  Country,"  "  I  Cannot  Forget,"  "  To 
a  Mosquito,"  "  Romero,"  "  The  Close  of  Autumn  "  ("  Death  of 
the  Flowers  "),  "  The  New  Moon,"  "  A  Meditation  on  Rhode 
Island  Coal,"  "  Hymn  to  Death,"  "  An  Indian  Girl's  Lament," 
and  one  or  two  others,  not  since  acknowledged.  Some  of 
them,  written  in  the  country,  are  equal  to  his  best ;  but  others, 
particularly  the  humorous  pieces — effects,  no  doubt,  of  Sands's 
lively  fellowship — are  not  so  much  admired.  Dana  also  con 
tributed  to  it  his  best  things:  "The  Dying  Raven,"  "Frag 
ments  of  an  Epistle,"  "  The  Husband  and  Wife's  Grave,"  and 
"  The  Little  Beach  Bird."  It  introduced  to  the  public  Hal- 
leek's  "  Marco  Bozzaris,"  "  Burns,"  "  Wyoming,"  and  "  Con 
necticut,"  f  which  are  his  best ;  several  of  the  earlier  efforts  of 
Longfellow,  which,  however,  were  not  his  best,  and  of  N.  P. 
Willis,  who  wrote  under  the  name  of  Roy.  Mr.  George  Ban 
croft,  since  eminent  as  an  historian,  aspired  to  poetry  then,  and 


*  They  were  not,  however,  without  keen  critical  insight,  as  this  notice  of  Dis 
raeli's  "  Vivian  Gray"  may  show.  "  This  is  a  piquant  and  amusing  novel,  though 
its  merits  are  not  of  a  very  high  order.  .  .  .  The  foundation  of  the  story  is  extrava 
gant.  The  powers,  purposes,  and  influence  of  a  mature  man  are  attributed  to  a  boy 
of  twenty ;  and  the  work  is  rather  a  series  of  sketches  than  a  regularly  built  story. 
The  hero  has  no  mistress  but  politics,  and  no  adventures  but  political  adventures. 
The  other  prominent  characters  are  all  fools  or  knaves,  and  all  are  more  or  less 
forced  and  unnatural.  Their  aggregate  makes  a  strong  picture,  which  dazzles,  but 
does  not  satisfy.  The  style  of  writing  is  dashing  and  careless,  occasionally  rising  into 
hasty  extravagance,  and  at  times  sinking  into  mawkish  sentimentality.  The  morality 
of  the  book  is  loose.  It  is,  in  fact,  little  more  than  a  picture  of  the  vices  and  follies 
of  the  great,  with  an  active  spirit  in  the  midst  of  them,  making  their  vices  and  follies 
the  stepping-stones  to  his  ambition." — December,  1827. 

\  The  three  last  after  it  was  changed  to  the  "  United  States  Review." 


MADAME  MALIBRAN. 


227 


translated  for  it  from  Goethe  and  Schiller,  and  Mr.  CaUl> 
dishing  opened  his  varied  career  in  it  by  gentle  flirtations 
with  the  Italian  Muses. 

Two  subjects  were  given  prominence  in  the  prose  depart 
ment  which  greatly  needed  codling  at  that  time,  the  Fine 
Arts  and  the  Italian  opera,  the  former  of  which  I  suspect  Mr. 
Bryant  took  care  of,  and  the  latter  Mr.  Anderson.*  Mr.  Bry 
ant's  principal  prose  articles  were:  "  Hillhouse's  Hadad," 
*•  Memoirs  of  Count  Segur,"  "  Provencal  Poets,"  "  Scott's  Lives 
of  the  Novelists,"  "  Moore's  Sheridan,"  "  Rammohun  Roy's 
Precepts  of  Jesus,"  "  Wayland's  Discourses,"  "  Webster's  Ad 
dress,"  "Recent  Poetry,"  "Richard  Henry  Lee,"  "  Percival's 
Poems,"  "  A  Pennsylvania  Legend,"  "  Sketches  of  Corsica," 
"  Wheaton's  Pinkney,"  etc.  Of  these  articles  the  interest  now 
has  wholly  passed  away.  They  are  for  the  most  part  well 
written,  and  some  of  them  exhibit  research.  His  portrait  of 
Sheridan,  after  Moore,  is  full  of  character-painting ;  he  breaks 
a  lance  with  the  potent  Sir  Walter  even  as  to  the  comparative 
worth  of  the  Romancers ;  shows  himself  in  advance  of  his  day 
in  religious  liberality  when  he  speaks  of  Rammohun  Roy; 
and  the  "Sketches  of  Corsica"  enable  him  to  trace  the  pecu 
liar  characteristics  of  Bonaparte,  his  wild  passion  for  war,  his 
rancorous  revengefulness,  his  duplicity,  his  contempt  for  wo- 

*  A  mercurial  but  accomplished  Italian  teacher,  Lorenzo  Da  Ponte,  a  former 
friend  of  Mozart  and  of  the  eccentric  Joseph  II,  of  Austria  (and  whose  adventures  in 
Europe  furnished  the  materials  of  a  diverting  autobiography),  pervaded  New  York, 
and  possessed  it  with  some  degree  of  his  own  enthusiasm  for  his  native  language  and 
his  national  music.  It  was  by  his  help  that  a  company  of  singers,  under  the  man 
agement  of  Signor  Garcia,  was  persuaded  to  try  its  fortunes  in  the  new  world,  and 
to  transplant,  if  it  could,  a  rare  exotic  to  a  somewhat  reluctant  soil.  Mr.  Anderson 
was  intimately  connected  with  Da  Ponte  (having  afterward  married  his  daughter), 
and  through  him  Mr.  Bryant,  who  cared  nothing  for  music,  though  a  great  deal  for 
the  Italian  language  and  literature,,  was  brought  in  contact  with  this  strange  world. 
For  a  time  he  and  his  family  occupied  the  same  boarding-house  with  the  Garcia's, 
where  they  learned  to  admire  the  wild  fawn  of  the  herd,  the  Signorita  Felicite,  then 
in  the  seventeenth  year  of  her  age,  beautiful,  capricious,  charming,  and  affectionate, 
who  afterward,  by  the  grace,  the  versatility,  the  brilliancy,  and  the  terrible  grandeur 
of  her  operatic  performances,  acquired  a  world-wide  fame  as  Mme.  Malibran. 


228  "A  LITERARY  ADVENTURER." 

men,  and  his  brigandage,  to  the  barbarous  ferocities  of  his 
Corsican  blood. 

But  the  "  Review,"  whatever  its  merits  or  defects,  found 
no  public.  It  was  born  at  an  unfavorable  time — during  one  of 
those  periodical  storms  which,  under  the  name  of  financial 
crises,  sweep  over  the  world  with  destructive  power — and  the 
little  venture  felt  the  effects  of  a  gale  in  which,  in  the  old  world, 
the  more  stupendous  fabric  reared  by  the  genius  of  Scott 
went  down.  In  March  (1826)  it  was  merged  with  the  "  New 
York  Literary  Gazette  "  into  the  "  New  York  Literary  Gazette, 
or  American  Athenaeum " ;  and  in  July  into  "  The  United 
States  Gazette "  of  Boston,  under  the  title  of  "  The  United 
States  Review  and  Literary  Gazette  "  ;  big  names  all  of  them, 
but  scarcely  more  than  names.  In  the  final  arrangement  Mr. 
Bryant  was  allowed  a  quarter  ownership  and  five  hundred  dol 
lars  a  year  salary,  with  a  prospective  increase  contingent  upon 
the  increase  of  subscribers,  who  never  came.  A  divided  con 
trol,  one  editor  (Mr.  James  G.  Carter,  afterward  Charles  Fol- 
som)  holding  the  reins  at  Boston,  another,  Mr.  Bryant,  at  New 
York,  must  have  been  a  hindrance  instead  of  a  help.  The  out 
look  for  our  "  adventurer  "  grew  more  and  more  dark.  In  spite 
of  his  struggles,  his  projects  had  failed,  or  threatened  failure ; 
and  the  "  Journey  of  Life  "  opened  upon  him  in  the  sombre 
hues  of  his  little  poem,  where 

"  The  lights  that  tell  of  cheerful  homes  appear 
Far  off;  and  die  like  hope  amid  the  glooms." 

Lest  resources  should  be  altogether  wanting,  he  renewed  his 
license  to  practice  law  in  the  courts  of  New  York  (March, 
1826),  and  was  associated  for  a  time  with  Mr.  Henry  Sedg- 
wick  in  the  prosecution  of  a  claim  for  the  recovery  of  a  part 
of  the  fund  which  had  been  raised  in  behalf  of  the  Greeks,  but 
which  had  in  some  way  been  perverted.  But  I  do  not  find 
that  he  appeared  in  any  of  the  courts.  Just  when  his  affairs 
were  at  the  worst  he  was  requested  to  act  temporarily  as  as 
sistant  editor  of  the  New  York  "  Evening  Post."  I  say  tern- 


THE  EVENING  POST. 


229 


porarily,  because  the  place  had  been  already  offered  to  his 
friend  Dana,  who  had  not  yet  answered.  Mr.  Bryant,  indeed, 
was  deputed  to  consult  him  about  it,  and  went  to  Boston  for 
that  purpose,  but  found  him  reluctant  to  leave  his  home  at 
Cambridge,  to  say  nothing  of  an  offer  made  him  by  the  Boston 
"  Centinel,"  which,  being  only  a  weekly,  would  exact  less  labor. 
Writing  to  Verplanck  from  Cummington,  August  26th,  as  to 
the  results  of  his  mission,  he  said :  "  Dana  seems  desirous  to 
have  the  place  in  the  office  of  the  '  Evening  Post '  kept  in  re 
serve  until  he  has  heard  what  could  be  done  nearer  home." 
Nothing  came  of  it ;  but  it  is  curious  to  think  what  that  jour 
nal  would  have  become  in  the  hands  of  so  decided  a  monarch 
ist  in  politics  and  so  high  a  churchman  in  religion.  As  late  as 
October  2d,  when  Mr.  Bryant  wrote  to  his  wife  in  the  coun 
try,  the  matter  was  not  yet  determined.  He  says : 

"I  shall  send  you  a  number  of  the  '  Evening  Post,'  either  by  Mr. 
Van  Deusen  or  by  the  mail,  containing  an  account  of  the  *  Commence 
ment  of  Columbia  College,'  and  will  also  mark  with  a  pencil  such  para 
graphs  as  are  written  by  me.  I  have  got  to  be  quite  famous  as  the 
editor  of  a  newspaper  since  you  were  here,  and  a  few  of  my  friends 
— Mr.  Verplanck  in  particular — are  anxious  that  I  should  continue 
in  it.  Some  compliments  have  been  made  to  me  about  its  improve 
ment  in  character.  The  establishment  is  an  extremely  lucrative  one. 
It  is  owned  by  two  individuals — Mr.  Coleman  and  Mr.  Burnham. 
The  profits  are  estimated  at  about  thirty  thousand  dollars  a  year — fif 
teen  to  each  proprietor.  This  is  better  than  poetry  and  magazines." 

It  certainly  opened  a  prospect  much  more  seductive  than 
that  which  lay  immediately  before  him. 


CHAPTER  TWELFTH. 

THE     SUBORDINATE     EDITOR. 
A.  D.    1827,  1828. 

THE  "  Evening  Post/'  on  which  Mr.  Bryant  was  now  em 
ployed  as  a  subordinate,  was  one  of  the  oldest  journals  of  the 
city.  Founded  in  the  first  year  of  the  century  by  William 
Coleman,  under  the  auspices  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  Colonel 
Varick,  Archibald  Gracie,  Colonel  Troupe,  and  other  Feder 
alists  of  note,  it  steadily  maintained  their  political  opinions  up 
to  the  close  of  the  Second  War.  As  the  lines  of  party  demar 
cation  were  then  more  or  less  obliterated,  it  became  somewhat 
independent ;  and  it  continued  so  until  the  presidential  contest 
of  1824 — a  sort  of  personal  scrub-race  between  four  or  five 
opposing  candidates — when  it  so  far  threw  off  its  old  bonds  as 
to  support  Crawford  of  the  South  against  Adams  of  the  East 
and  Clay  and  Jackson  of  the  West. 

Newspapers,  however,  were  not  then  the  voluble  organs  of 
public  sentiment  they  have  since  become.  Advertising  sheets 
mainly,  adding  to  their  local  chronicles  and  digests  of  foreign 
intelligence,  an  occasional  comment  on  public  questions  or 
characters,  they  preferred  for  the  most  part  to  confine  their 
disquisitions  to  squabbles  with  one  another.*  The  more  solid 

*  Cheetam  and  Duane,  for  example,  were  editors  of  rival  gazettes,  to  which  the 
"  Evening  Post  "  paid  its  compliments  in  this  wise  : 

"  Lie  on,  Duane,  lie  on  for  pay  ; 

And,  Cheetam,  lie  thou  too — 
More  against  truth  you  cannot  say, 
Than  truth  can  say  'gainst  you." 


THE  "EVENING  POST."  231 

matter  came  from  without — from  Lucius  Crassus,  or  Publius, 
or  Viator,  or  a  Constant  Reader.  Even  criticisms  of  literature 
and  the  fine  arts  were  apt  to  appear  as  communications.  Nei 
ther  the  news  nor  the  discussions  exhibited  any  great  boldness 
or  hurry  of  enterprise.*  But  Mr.  Coleman,  the  editor  of  the 
"  Evening-  Post,"  having  been  a  lawyer,  was  something  of  a 
scholar,  and  gave  to  it  a  considerable  literary  repute.  It  was 
for  this  reason  chosen  in  1819  as  a  vehicle  for  the  waggeries  of 
two  young  rhymers — Fitz-Greene  Halleck  and  Joseph  Rod 
man  Drake — who  under  the  name  of  Croaker  &  Co.  obtained  a 
great  deal  of  notoriety.  They  satirized  the  men  and  things  of 
the  day — Cobbit,  Dr.  Mitchell,  the  aldermen,  and  the  theatres 
—in  a  humorous  manner,  mingling  occasionally  graver  strains 
with  their  fun.f  When  jests  less  good-natured  than  theirs 
found  their  way  into  print,  the  consequence  was  apt  to  be  a 
meeting  at  Hoboken  early  in  the  morning.  Coleman  himself, 
the  law  partner  of  Aaron  Burr  for  a  time,  adopted  his  notions 
of  the  duel.  His  pen  was  now  and  then  too  sharp  at  the  nib, 
and  compelled  him  to  "  make  his  proofs  "  according  to  French 
phrase.  Once,  at  least,  he  wras  in  hiding  for  some  days  for 
having  put  an  adversary  under  the  sod.  But  he  was  now  get 
ting  old  and  self-indulgent,  and  glad  to  avail  himself  of  a  new 
hand. 

During  Mr.  Bryant's  year  of  apprenticeship,  as  it  may  be 
called  (i826-'29),  we  are  able  to  trace  his  handiwork  in  more 
discriminating  and  elaborate  notices  of  new  books,  in  larger 
extracts  from  foreign  journals  showing  the  progress  of  sci 
ence,  in  constant  presentations  of  the  claims  of  artists  and 
their  works  to  public  regard,  in  more  careful  characterizations 
of  public  men,  and  in  almost  daily  suggestions  of  reform  in 
city  affairs — a  new  water  supply,  a  better  organized  police, 
cleanlier  streets,  and  a  more  elegant  style  of  architecture  in 
shops  and  houses.  Mr.  Bryant's  fine  taste  was  perpetually 

*  News  arrived  slowly:  in  five  days  from  Albany,  a  week  from  Washington,  and 
one  or  two  months  from  Europe. 

f  Drake's  "  American  Hag  "  was  among  these. 


232  THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR. 

urging  him  to  these  repeated  appeals  to  improvement ;  and 
they  are  mentioned  here  because  the  services  that  journalists 
render  the  communities  in  which  they  live  in  this  way,  small 
in  the  detail  but  important  in  the  results,  are  not  generally 
appreciated.  He  was  also  outspoken  in  his  opposition  to  the 
practice  of  duelling,  which  prevailed  more  or  less  all  over  the 
country,  denouncing  it  with  the  utmost  severity,  and  to  the 
licensing  of  money  lotteries,  which  filled  the  streets  with  shops 
for  the  sale  of  chances,  and  every  fortnight  attracted  anxious 
and  noisy  multitudes  into  the  Park  to  witness  the  turn  of  the 
fatal  wheels. 

In  politics  there  was  no  evidence  of  his  activity,  except  on 
the  subject  of  free-trade.  It  has  been  frequently  represented 
that  he  first  induced  the  "  Evening  Post "  to  support  that  doc 
trine,  but  such  is  not  the  case.  The  journal  was  committed  to 
it  before  his  accession  to  the  staff.  In  the  city  of  New  York, 
indeed,  it  was  popular  with  the  merchants  and  more  eminent 
citizens.  One  finds  on  published  lists  of  delegates  to  free- 
trade  conventions,  or  attached  to  calls  for  free-trade  meetings, 
such  well-known  names  as  those  of  Albert  Gallatin,  Peter  Jay, 
James  Kent,  John  Duer,  Morgan  Lewis,  James  G.  King,  Peter 
Remsen,  Isaac  Bronson,  Reuben  Withers,  Jonathan  Goodhue, 
Jacob  Lorillard,  Gardner  Rowland,  Charles  H.  Russell,  and 
others.  A  majority  in  both  houses  of  Congress,  however, 
voted  for  protection,  and  there  was  not  a  journal  this  side  of 
the  Potomac,  except  the  "  Evening  Post,"  which  endeavored 
to  controvert  its  fallacies.  In  the  northern  parts  of  the  Union, 
the  seaboard  towns  particularly,  a  few  friends  of  freedom  were 
to  be  found,  while  the  people  of  the  interior  of  the  Atlantic 
States  and  the  entire  population  of  the  West  seemed  to  acqui 
esce  without  scruple  in  the  policy  of  legislative  favoritism  and 
discrimination.  Mr.  Bryant,  who,  as  we  have  seen,  had  for 
some  years  been  a  student  of  political  economy,  was  able,  in 
this  respect,  to  animate  and  strengthen  the  polemics  of  his 
journal. 

Nevertheless,  he  was  only  as  yet  a  subaltern,  and  engaged, 


HARD    WORK. 


233 


besides,  in  the  management  of  his  staggering  monthly,  now 
"  The  United  States  Review."  His  contributions  to  it  in 
prose  were  many,  but  not  significant  for  us ;  while  his  poet 
ical  pieces,  "October,"  "  The  Damsel  of  Peru,"  "  The  African 
Chief,"  "  Spring  in  Town,"  "  The  Gladness  of  Nature,"  "  The 
Greek  Partisan,"  "  The  Two  Graves,"  and  "  The  Conjunction 
of  Jupiter  and  Venus,"  though  spirited  enough  in  their  way, 
are  hardly  up  to  his  old  mark.*  His  residence  in  the  city  had 
enlarged  his  knowledge  of,  and  deepened  his  interest  in,  the 
ways  and  doings  of  men,  but  it  seemed  to  need  the  genial 
breezes  of  the  country  to  awaken  his  harp  to  its  finest  tones. 
In  the  "  Summer  Ramble,"  which  he  contributed  to  the  "  Mir 
ror,"  we  hear  again  the  soft  voices  of  the  grass,  and  the  strains 
of  tiny  music,  that  swell 

"  From  every  moss-cup  of  the  rock, 
From  every  nameless  blossom's  bell." 

Mr.  Dana,  some  time  in  1826,  announced  to  Mr.  Bryant 
that  he  was  about  to  do  himself  what  he  had  often  urged 
upon  him — that  is,  publish  a  poem  of  some  length  and  in  book 
form.  In  pursuance  of  this  purpose,  the  manuscript  of  "  The 
Buccaneer"  was  fonvarded  to  Mr.  Bryant  early  in  1827,  with 
a  request  that  he  should  look  over  it,  and  suggest  such  revis 
ions  as  might  seem  to  be  advisable.  He  wrote  of  it  (June  I, 
1827)  as  follows: 

" .  .  .  .  The  first  moment  I  was  able  I  finished  the  examination 
of  your  work.  I  should,  however,  apologize.  I  have  a  good  deal  of 
work  to  do.  I  drudge  for  the  *  Evening  Post '  and  labor  for  the 
*  Review,'  and  thus  have  a  pretty  busy  life  of  it.  I  would  give  up 
one  of  these  if  I  could  earn  my  bread  by  the  other,  but  that  I  cannot 
do.  I  have  delayed  attending  to  your  manuscript  from  time  to  time, 
just  as  I  often  delay  writing  poetry,  until  I  should  feel  able  to  do  it 

*  Some  of  these,  he  said  to  his  brother  once,  were  written  when  he  was  greatly 
overworked,  and  he  desired  to  leave  them  out  of  his  edition  of  1832,  but  his  friends 
— probably  Anderson  and  Sands — would  not  hear  of  it. 


234 


THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR. 


better  justice.  I  have  delayed  it  too  long,  but  it  was  not  from  mere 
laziness. 

"You  are  mistaken  in  supposing  the  piece  did  not  take  well  with 
me.  I  think  very  highly  of  it.  It  has  passages  of  great  power  and 
great  beauty,  and  the  general  effect,  to  my  apprehension,  is  very  fine. 
Did  you  tell  me  not  to  show  it  ?  I  cannot  find  the  letter  which  ac 
companied  the  manuscript,  and  I  may  have  sinned,  for  I  have  shown 
it  to  Verplanck,  who  approved,  and  we  have  agreed  that  it  should  be 
printed.  .  .  . 

"It  is  difficult  to  judge  in  what  manner  the  public  will  receive 
your  work.  I  believe  the  reception  will  be  respectful.  I  hope 
it  will  be  cordial,  but  fashion  has  a  great  deal  to  do  with  these 
things ;  and,  though  there  is  a  better  taste  for  poetry  in  this  country 
than  there  was  ten  years  ago,  there  are  yet  a  great  many  who  count 
the  syllables  on  their  fingers — e.  g.,  Mr.  Walsh  *  and  all  that  class  of 
men.  But  we  will  try  what  we  can  do  for  it.  I  have  not  marked 
all  the  passages  which  I  thought  required  amendment,  because  I  was 
not  certain  where  the  fault  lay.  There  is  occasionally  a  startling 
abruptness  in  the  style,  and  Matt  is  treated  by  the  poet  who  relates 
the  story  with  a  sort  of  fierce  familiarity  which  is  sometimes  carried 
too  far.  If  I  have  thus,  both  here  and  in  the  notes  I  have  made, 
dwelt  upon  the  blemishes,  it  is  not  because  they  are  more  numerous 
than  the  beauties,  but  because  I  wish  the  work  to  be  entirely  free  of 
them.  They  are  blemishes  of  execution  merely,  and  I,  who  have 
been  an  apprentice  in  the  trade  of  verse  from -nine  years  old,  can 
only  wonder  how,  with  so  little  practice,  you  have  acquired  so  much 
dexterity.  There  are  passages  of  strong  pathos,  and,  indeed,  the 
whole  work  is  instinct  with  this  quality;  the  descriptions  are  also 
striking,  and  as  many  powerful  lines  might  be  picked  out  of  the  poem 
as  out  of  any  other  of  the  size  that  I  know."  f 


*  Robert  Walsh,  probably,  the  editor  of  a  Philadelphia  periodical. 

f  This  amusing  note  from  Halleck  belongs  to  this  time : 

"DEAR  BRYANT:  Mr.  Morris,  the  editor  of  the  '  Mirror,'  has  asked  me  to  say 
to  you  that  his  engraving  of  the  seven,  or  nine — I  forget  which — '  Illustrious  Ob 
scure  '  is  completed.  He  has  made  me  what  I  ought  to  have  been,  and  very  possibly 
shall  be — a  Methodist  parson.  As  for  the  character  in  which  you  appear  in  the  plate, 
he  wishes  you  to  call  on  him  and  judge  for  yourself.  The  barber-shop  sort  of  im- 


REVIEWS  DAN  AS  POEMS. 


-35 


The  book  was  published  in  the  autumn,  and,  in  order  to 
help  it  along,  Mr.  Bryant,  at  the  request  of  Mr.  Sparks,  the 
editor,  wrote  a  review  of  it  for  the  "  North  American. '  *  In 
a  letter  to  Dana  of  February  16,  1828,  he  refers  to  the  matter 
thus: 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  am  glad  you  are  so  well  pleased  with  my  review 
of  your  poems.  It  is  pretty  well  received,  I  believe,  by  the  reading 
world,  and  thought  a  fair  criticism.  Mr.  Walsh,  to  be  sure,  says  that 
your  poems  are  'too  broadly  and  strongly  eulogized,'  but  Mr.  Walsh's 
opinion  on  poetry  is  not  worth  anything,  and,  although  it  yet  passes 
for  more  than  it  is  worth,  its  real  value  is  beginning  to  be  better  un 
derstood  than  formerly.  Mr.  Walsh  is  the  greatest  literary  quack  of 
our  country,  and  deserves  to  be  taken  down  a  peg  or  two.  It  would 
do  him  good,  for  the  creature  really  has  some  talent ;  and,  if  he  would 
be  content  to  drudge  in  a  plain  way,  might  be  useful.  I  saw  Mr. 
Greenough  (the  sculptor),  and  am  obliged  to  you  for  introducing  me 
to  so  agreeable  a  man,  and  one  of  such  genuine  tastes  and  right 
opinions. 

"  P.  S. — I  ought  to  answer  your  question  about  the  New  York 
'  Evening  Post.'  I  am  a  small  proprietor  in  the  establishment,  and  am 
a  gainer  by  the  arrangement.  It  will  afford  me  a  comfortable  liveli 
hood  after  I  have  paid  for  the  eighth  part,  which  is  the  amount  of  my 
share.  I  do  not  like  politics  any  better  than  you  do ;  but  they  get 
only  my  mornings,  and  you  know  politics  and  a  belly-full  are  better 
than  poetry  and  starvation. 

"  I  should  also  express  my  pleasure  at  learning  of  the  success  of 
your  poems  in  Boston.  To  confess  to  you  the  truth,  I  had  strong 
misgivings  as  to  their  reception — very  strong ;  but  I  knew  that  there 
had  been  a  change  in  the  tastes  of  the  people  there,  and  that  the  popu 
larity  of  Wordsworth's  poems,  whether  real  or  fictitious,  had  prepared 


mortality  with  which  this  engraving  honors  us  is  most  particularly  annoying,  but 
how  could  we  help  ourselves  ?  '//  faut  se  soumettrcj  as  they  say  in  French,  or,  as 
that  prince  of  corporals  and  philosophers,  Nym,  with  his  usual  brief  eloquence,  ex 
presses  it,  '  Things  must  be  as  they  may.'  Y'rs  truly, 

"  IVtdnesday,  i6M  7*»>,  '28,  n  o'clock."  '  !  !  ALLECK- 

*  "North  American  Review."     Dana's  Poems,  No.  26,  p.  239,  1827. 


236  THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR. 

the  way  for  you.  As  to  the  reception  here,  you  know  we  are  a  pro 
saic,  money-making  community,  and  nothing  takes  unless  it  be  a  new 
novel,  or  some  work  on  a  subject  of  immediate  interest;  but  they  have 
been  read  with  pleasure  by  the  few  who  know  how  to  value  such 
things.  We  did  what  we  could  in  the  papers  both  before  and  after 
the  work  appeared. 

"W.  C.  B." 

Mr.  Dana's  warnings  against  politics — that "  vile  blackguard 
squabble,"  as  he  calls  it — were  as  yet  hardly  needed  ;  Mr.  Bry 
ant's  interest  in  it  was  no  doubt  quickened  by  his  new  propri 
etorship  in  the  "  Evening  Post,"  but  he  was  not  absorbed  by  it. 
The  "  Review  "  having  finally  collapsed,  his  attention  was  given 
to  a  new  literary  project  originated  by  Sands.  A  fashion  of 
decorated  annuals,  caught  by  French  and  English  publishers 
from  the  "  Annalen  "  of  the  Germans,  was  now  reigning  in  the 
United  States,  and  the  booksellers  of  the  principal  cities  vied 
with  one  another  in  the  production  of  Tokens,  Souvenirs, 
Amaranths,  and  Amulets,  of  light  miscellaneous  contents,  but 
sumptuously  printed  and  adorned.  "  Mr.  Elam  Bliss,  a  worthy 
member  of  the  trade,"  says  Mr.  Verplanck,*  "mentioned  a 
thing  of  the  kind  to  Mr.  Sands,  who,  after  consulting  with  Mr. 
Verplanck  and  Mr.  Bryant,  hit  upon  the  scheme  of  a  yearly 
publication  which  should  combine  the  characteristics  of  an  an 
nual  with  those  of  a  miscellany  from  the  pens  of  two  or  three 
authors  writing  in  conjunction."  By  the  kindness  of  several 
artists,  with  whom  the  writers  were  on  terms  of  intimacy, 
some  respectable  embellishments  were  gotten  together,  and 
the  "  Talisman  "  for  1828  was  prepared  in  the  latter  part  of 
i82/.f  It  was  put  forth  in  the  name  of  an  imaginary  editor, 

*  "  Memoir  of  Robert  C.  Sands,"  prefixed  to  his  works.  Harper  &  Brothers,  New 
York,  1834. 

f  Out  of  this  casual  association  of  artists  and  literary  men  the  Sketch  Club  arose. 
Cooper's  club,  the  Lunch,  was  no  more,  owing  to  his  departure  for  Europe,  and 
the  Sketch  Club  was  meant  to  be  a  sort  of  substitute.  Its  meetings  were  continued 
until  it  was  merged  in  what  is  now  "  The  Century  Club,"  one  of  the  largest  and 
most  prosperous  clubs  of  the  city. 


THE  "  TALISMAN"  BEGUN.  237 

Mr.  Francis  Herbert,  who  professed  to  draw  his  materials, 
tales,  essays,  and  verses  out  of  a  portfolio,  which  had  been 
slowly  gathered  in  the  course  of  years  of  travel  and  research. 
He  was,  of  course,  one  of  those  omniscient  and  ubiquitous 
individuals,  easily  found  in  such  cases,  who  had  visited  every 
part  of  the  earth,  made  himself  familiar  with  the  languages, 
the  literature,  and  the  manners  of  people  of  all  ages  and  climes, 
and  capable  of  writing,  with  equal  ease,  on  every  kind  of  topic, 
and  in  every  variety  of  style.  A  petty  volume  with  a  few 
engravings  in  it  was  a  small  result  for  such  grand  pretensions, 
but  it  had  no  less  a  considerable  literary  success. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  of  editorship  under  pleas- 
anter  circumstances  than  those  in  which  the  "  Talisman  "  was 
compiled.  Mr.  Sands  resided  at  Hoboken,  where  his  father's 
hospitable  house  was  made  the  headquarters  of  the  trio.  It 
was  in  the  midst  of  a  pleasant  hamlet  of  the  most  beautiful  sur 
roundings.  The  New  Jersey  shore  of  the  Hudson  River,  from 
the  peninsula  of  Paulus  Hook  (Jersey  City)  to  beyond  Wee- 
hawken  on  the  north,  presented  a  singularly  picturesque  out 
line  of  indented  coves  and  wood-fringed  promontories,  stretch 
ing  away  over  level  meadow-lands  to  a  bolder  background  of 
heights.  Wandering  through  the  tangled  undergrowth  of  the 
woods  to  the  little  grassy  plot  where  Hamilton  fell  in  his  duel 
with  Burr,  and  so  many  other  mortal  quarrels  were  voided,  or 
stretching  themselves  upon  the  sunny  top  of  a  cliff  that  com 
manded  a  magnificent  view  of  river,  bay,  and  city,  now  belong 
ing  to  the  King  estate,  the  editors  would  concoct  their  projects 
for  the  annual.  Sometimes  the  members  of  the  Sketch  Club 
would  join  them  in  these  excursions,  and  take  minutes  of  the 
views  that  were  to  be  afterward  engraved.* 

*  On  one  of  these  rambles  they  encountered  a  Frenchman,  who  gave  himself  out 
as  having  been  an  intimate  of  the  household  of  the  grand  Napoleon.  Unfortunately, 
he  said,  he  had  lost  all  his  most  valuable  papers  in  the  retreat  from  Moscow.  It  ap 
peared,  when  he  was  more  closely  questioned,  that  these  were  receipts  for  the  prepa 
ration  of  favorite  dishes.  At  present  he  was  in  search  of  rattlesnakes,  which,  he 
averred,  when  properly  cooked  and  sauced,  were  the  most  delicious  of  edibles. 


238  THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR. 

On  returning  home  they  would  reduce  their  wandering 
talks  to  manuscript,  Sands,  as  the  readiest  penman,  commonly 
acting  as  amanuensis,  while  the  others  walked  the  room  or 
lolled  upon  chairs.  How  the  house  would  ring,  says  Miss 
Sands,  surviving  sister  of  Robert,  with  eloquent  declamations 
and  roars  of  uproarious  laughter !  Often  the  passing  stranger 
would  stop,  thinking  rather  of  jolly  fellows  at  a  feast  than  of 
sober  and  sedate  scholars  in  the  throes  of  composition.  Sands, 
in  fact,  had  a  propensity  for  innocent  and  playful  mischief,  and 
on  these  occasions  would  divert  his  companions  with  stories 
of  his  adventures  among  the  primitive  Dutch  settlers  of  Com- 
munipaw,  whose  festivals  and  frolics  he  sometimes  attended. 
Or  else  he  was  getting  up  one  of  his  many  literary  practical 
jokes.  "  It  was  his  sport,"  says  Mr.  Verplanck,  "  to  excite 
public  curiosity  by  giving  extracts,  highly  spiced  with  fashion 
able  allusions  and  satire,  from  the  forthcoming  novel — which 
novel  was,  and  in  truth  is,  yet  to  be  written — or  else  to  entice 
some  unhappy  wight  into  a  literary  or  historical  newspaper 
discussion,  then  to  combat  him  anonymously,  or,  under  the 
mask  of  a  brother  editor,  to  overwhelm  him  with  history, 
facts,  quotations,  and  authorities,  all  manufactured  for  the 
occasion."  *  This  pedantic  sort  of  fun  was  much  in  vogue 
at  one  time  with  the  wits  of  "  Blackwood  "  and  other  maga 
zines,  but  has  now  fallen  into  disuse.  Mr.  Bryant  seems 
rather  to  have  liked  it,  and  often  took  part  with  Sands  in  his 
mystifications.  "  Did  you  see  a  learned  article,"  he  wrote  to 
Mr.  Verplanck,  at  Washington,  "  in  the  '  Evening  Post '  the 
other  day  about  Pope  Alexander  VI  and  Csesar  Borgia? 


*  "  One  of  these  pranks  occurred  in  relation  to  the  Grecian  Crown  of  Victory, 
during  the  excitement  in  favor  of  Greek  liberty,  when,  after  several  ingenious  young 
men,  fresh  from  their  college  studies,  had  exhausted  all  the  learning  they  could  pro 
cure,  either  from  their  own  acquaintance  with  antiquity,  or  at  second  hand  from 
Lempriere,  Potter,  Barthelemi,  or  the  more  erudite  Paschalis  de  Corona,  Sands  ended 
the  controversy  by  an  essay  rilled  with  excellent  learning,  that  rested  mainly  on  a 
passage  of  Pausanias,  quoted  in  the  original  Greek,  but  for  which  it  is  vain  to  look 
in  any  edition  of  that  author." 


LITERARY  PRANKS. 


239 


Matt.  Patcrson  undertook  to  be  saucy  in  the  'Commercial' 
as  to  a  Latin  quotation  in  it,  so  we — i.  e.,  Sands  and  myself — sent 
him  on  a  fool's  errand.  He  has  not  been  able  as  yet,  I  believe, 
to  find  the  '  Virorum  Illustrium  Reliquas,'  though  he  says  Da 
Ponte  has  a  great  many  queer  old  Latin  books,  and  he  has  an 
indistinct  remembrance  of  a  work  that  has  virorum  clarorum  on 
the  title-page  !  "  Again,  he  says :  "  You  have  doubtless  seen 
the  learned  epistle  of  Mr.  John  Smith  to  the  editors  of  the 
*  Evening  Post  ?  '  The  poems  were  concocted,  as  well  as  the 
greater  part  of  the  translations,  by  Sands  and  myself ;  some  by 
Anderson,  Paine,  and  Da  Ponte.  We  look  upon  it  here  as  a 
very  learned  jeu  d*  esprit"  The  joke  consisted  in  taking  a  fa 
miliar  couplet  and  running  it  through  all  the  languages,  ancient 
and  modern,  inclusive  of  several  Indian  dialects.  These  quips 
and  quirks  were  sometimes  flung  into  the  camps  of  political 
adversaries,  where  they  exploded  like  fire-crackers,  and  pro 
duced  a  great  deal  of  spluttering  and  noise,  but  not  much 
damage.  One  of  the  more  successful  flings  was  levelled  at 
Miss  Fanny  Wright  (afterward  Madame  Darusmont),  the  fore 
runner  of  those  ladies,  now  not  so  scarce,  who  lecture  on  In 
fidelity  and  Marriage,  or  what  Miss  Wright  used  to  call  No- 
lige  (Knowledge).  Writing  to  Verplanck  still,  he  says,  slyly : 
"I  suppose  you  saw  an  'Ode  to  Miss  Wright'  in  the  'Post' 
not  long  since  ?  It  has  passed  for  Halleck's  among  the  know 
ing  ones,  and  Carter  was  so  cock-sure  of  it  that  he  republished 
it  in  the  '  Statesman,'  and  laid  a  wager  with  Colonel  Stone  that 
Halleck  was  the  author.  Mr.  Walsh  must  have  fallen  into  the 
same  mistake,  for  he  republished  it  with  praise." 

On  one  occasion  Miss  Sands  remembers  that  Verplanck 
came  rushing  to  the  house,  early  in  the  afternoon,  in  a  state  of 
breathless  excitement,  exclaiming :  "  Oh,  Sands,  I've  got  such 
a  poem  !  Gray's  '  Elegy  '  is  nothing  to  it.  I  picked  it  up  at 


*  When  Mr.  Ilalleck  was  asked  if  he  wrote  the  ode,  he  promptly  answered,  "  No  ; 
and  there  is  but  one  man  in  New  York  who  could  have  written  it,  and  that  L> 
Bryant." 


240  THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR. 

the  publishers,  and  all  the  way  across  the  river  it  has  been  ring 
ing  in  my  brain. 

"  l  Far  in  thy  realms  withdrawn 

Old  Empires  sit  in  sullenness  and  gloom ! ' ' 

and  he  then  repeated  the  whole  of  Mr.  Bryant's  poem  "  To 
the  Past."  At  the  close  the  two  editors  congratulated  each 
other  with  the  fervor  of  those  who  find  a  treasure. 

Nor  were  the  rambles  of  the  editors  confined  to  the  woods ; 
as  scholars,  they  had  antiquarian  tastes,  and  often  explored  to 
gether  out-of-the-way  places  in  the  city  itself,  where  odd  char 
acters  were  to  be  found,  or  which  were  distinguished  by  his 
torical  associations.  They  gazed,  of  course,  upon  the  spot  in 
Wall  Street  where  Washington  had  been  inaugurated  as  the 
first  President  of  the  United  States,  recalling  the  forms  of 
Hamilton,  Madison,  the  elder  Adams,  Jay,  Knox,  Sherman, 
Lee,  Clinton,  Ames,  Ellsworth,  Gouverneur  Morris,  and  others 
who  stood  around  him  as  he  took  the  oath  administered  by 
Chancellor  Livingston.  They  lingered  about  the  fine  old 
house  at  the  head  of  Pearl  Street,  where  he  afterward  received 
his  friends.  Sometimes  they  paced  the  shores  of  the  North 
River,  just  above  the  present  Barclay  Street  ferry,  where 
Jonathan  Edwards,  temporary  pastor  of  the  Wall  Street 
Church,  used  to  walk  backward  and  forward  while  he  medi 
tated  the  mysteries  of  eternal  preordination  and  free-will,  as 
the  eternal  murmurs  of  the  ocean  fell  upon  his  ears.  At 
other  times  they  sought  out  the  house  in  Stone  Street  where 
the  philanthropic  Oglethorpe,  the  founder  of  Georgia,  lodged 
on  his  first  visit  to  America ;  or  that  on  the  corner  of  Broad 
way  looking  on  the  Battery,  which  had  been  the  headquar 
ters  of  Wolfe,  the  conqueror  of  Canada,  and  afterward  of 
Howe,  who  fell  at  Ticonderoga ;  or  the  old  two-story  struc 
ture  in  Cedar  Street,  in  which  Jefferson  conversed  with  Tal 
leyrand  and  Billaud  de  Varennes ;  and  they  tried  to  learn 
the  places  that  Volney  and  Cobbett,  the  Abbe  Correa  and 
General  Moreau,  and  Tom  Moore  and  Jeffrey  had  frequented. 


OLD  NEW   YORK.  241 

Of  all  these  sites,  no  one  was  more  attractive  than  the  massive 
wooden  building,  with  a  lofty  portico,  supported  by  Ionic  col 
umns,  on  the  hill  at  the  corner  of  Varick  and  Charlton  Streets, 
where  Lord  Amherst  had  lived,  where  President  Adams  en 
tertained  foreign  ministers  and  the  more  conspicuous  senators 
and  congressmen,  and  Aaron  Burr  resided  at  the  height  of 
his  career.  All  these  places,  celebrated  by  the  editors  in  their 
"  Reminiscences  of  New  York,"  have  since  been  swept  away 
by  the  remorseless  besom  of  metropolitan  progress. 

The  "Talisman"  was  continued  in  the  years  1829  and  1830 
—making  three  volumes  in  all — when  other  occupations  on  the 
part  of  the  writers — of  Mr.  Verplanck  in  Congress,  of  Mr. 
Bryant  as  editor  of  the  "  Evening  Post,"  and  of  Mr.  Sands  as 
editor  of  the  "  Commercial  Advertiser  " — put  an  end  to  a  work 
which  had  been  a  source  of  a  vast  deal  of  amusement  to  them, 
if  not  of  much  profit.*  A  few  years  later  the  principal  con 
tents  were  republished  as  "  Miscellanies,"  and  obtained  a  wider 
and  more  lucrative  popularity. f 

Mr.  Dana's  earnest  remonstrances  against "  politics,"  which 
we  have  read,  were  prompted  as  much,  doubtless,  by  anxiety 
as  to  the  direction  in  which  Mr.  Bryant's  preferences  tended 
as  by  his  general  sense  of  the  degraded  methods  of  our  politi 
cal  warfare.  Regarding  the  Democratic  polity  with  small 

*  Mr.  Bryant's  poetical  contributions  to  the  "  Talisman  "  were  :  "A  Scene  on  the 
Banks  of  the  Hudson";  "The  Hurricane";  "William  Tell";  "Innocent  Child 
and  Snow-white  Flower  "  ;  "  The  Close  of  Autumn  "  ;  "  To  the  Past  "  ;  "  The  Hunt 
er's  Serenade  "  ;  "  The  Greek  Boy  "  ;  "  To  the  Evening  Wind  "  ;  "  Love  and  Folly  "  ; 
"The  Siesta";  "Romero";  "To  the  River  Arve  ";  "To  the  Painter  Cole,"  and 
"Eva,"  including  "  The  Alcayde  of  Molina"  and  "  The  Death  of  Aliatar."  It  is 
a  proof  how  little  the  "  New  York  Review  "  had  been  known  that  two  or  three  of 
these  were  republished  from  it  without  seeming  detection.  His  prose  pieces  were  : 
"  An  adventure  in  the  East  Indies  "  ;  "  The  Cascade  of  Mclsingah  "  ;  "  Recollections 
of  the  South  of  Spain  "  ;  "  Moriscan  Romances  "  ;  "  Story  of  the  Island  of  Cuba"  ; 
"  The  Indian  Spring"  ;  "  The  Whirlwind  "  ;  "  Early  Spanish  Poetry"  ;  "  Phanette 
des  Gantelmes";  "The  Marriage  Blunder";  and  parts  of  "The  Devil's  Pulpit," 
and  of  "  Reminiscences  of  New  York." 

f  "  Miscellanies"  by  G.  C.  Verplanck,  Robert  C.  Sands,  and  W.  C.  Bryant.    Xew 
York:  Elam  Bliss,  1832. 
VOL.  i. — 17 


242  THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR. 

admiration,  he  felt  still  less  for  the  parties  which  struggled 
for  ascendency  under  it.  As  for  the  more  popular  or  radical 
of  those  parties,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  express  the  utmost 
aversion,  and  yet  it  was  toward  that  party  his  friend  Bryant 
was  rapidly  gravitating.  In  its  enmity  to  the  dogma  of  pro 
tection,  the  "  Evening  Post  "  had  gradually  fallen  into  an  atti 
tude  of  antagonism  to  the  administration  of  John  Quincy 
Adams.  Perhaps  a  little  leaven  of  old  Federal  prejudice, 
which  deemed  Adams  guilty  of  party  treachery  when  he  dis 
closed  the  real  animus  of  the  New  England  leaders  during  the 
war,  tinctured  its  dislike.  At  any  rate,  as  early  as  June,  1827, 
it  took  the  field  in  favor  of  the  nomination  of  General  Jackson. 
Its  avowed  reason  was  that  Jackson  had  pronounced  himself 
friendly  to  "  a  judicious  tariff,"  which  was  interpreted  to  mean 
a  mitigation  of  the  existing  customs  duties  ;  but  another  motive 
may  have  operated  upon  Mr.  Bryant's  mind.  Like  many 
other  literary  men  of  the  time,  Irving,  Cooper,  Bancroft,  Ver- 
planck  at  home,  and,  in  later  years,  Landor  abroad,  he  had 
formed  a  very  high  opinion  of  the  personal  character  of  the 
General.  His  known  simplicity  and  frankness,  his  incorrupti 
ble  honesty,  his  strong  sense  of  justice,  his  popular  sympathies, 
his  fearless  directness  in  moving  to  his  ends,  were  qualities 
that  captivated  not  the  common  people  alone,  but  simple- 
hearted  men  everywhere  who  loved  manliness  and  energy. 
Jackson  was  comparatively  untried  in  civil  affairs ;  scholastic- 
ally  ignorant ;  of  irascible,  if  not  unbridled  passions,  and  im 
patient  of  restraint ;  but  his  integrity  was  spotless,  and  his  will 
in  the  execution  of  his  purposes  inflexible.  Moreover,  there 
was  a  certain  degree  of  heroism  in  his  life  of  the  frontier,  and 
as  a  military  chief  among  the  everglades  of  Florida,  which 
captivated  the  imagination. 

At  the  outset,  the  partizanship  of  the  "  Evening  Post," 
though  it  was  decided,  was  not  immoderate  ;  but  it  was  found, 
as  the  campaign  advanced,  that  a  personality  like  Jackson's 
admitted  of  no  half-way  attachments  or  dislikes.  He  was 
either,  as  his  friends  averred,  "a  noble  old  Roman,"  or,  ac- 


A    JACKSON  ODE.  243 

cording  to  his  enemies,  a  monster  of  violence  greatly  to  be 
dreaded.  Mr.  Bryant  was  disposed  to  concur  with  the  for 
mer,  and,  as  the  controversial  heat  increased,  his  admiration 
warmed.  His  regular  adoption,  however,  among  the  Demo 
cratic  train-bands  was  owing  to  an  incident  which,  consider 
ing  his  habitual  reticence  and  dignity,  is  somewhat  amusing. 
Jackson's  chief  glory  dated  back  to  the  8th  of  January,  1815, 
when  he  won  the  victory  of  New  Orleans,  so  that  his  parti 
sans  inscribed  the  anniversary  of  that  day  among  the  festal 
days  of  the  calendar,  always  to  be  celebrated  by  dinners, 
songs,  speeches,  and  fireworks.  The  poet,  at  the  instigation 
of  a  friend,  had  written  an  ode  for  one  of  these  occasions, 
which,  containing  a  sonorous  and  rollicking  refrain,  gave  great 
pleasure  to  the  admirers  of  "Old  Hickory,"  who  took  it  up 
and  made  it  popular.  Mr.  Verplanck,  writing  from  Wash 
ington,  January  9,  1828,  describes  its  early  fortunes  thus,  using 
names  from  the  "  Talisman  "  : 

"  MY  DEAR  FRANCES  :  I  am  sorry  to  tell  you  that,  although  from 
1  The  North  American  Review '  we  have  learned  the  merits  of  your 
work,  yet  as  Mr.  Walsh  thinks  the  praise  given  by  the  eastern  critic 
too  high,  we  are  altogether  at  a  loss  to  decide  on  your  literary  rank, 
not  a  single  copy  of  your  coup  d'essai  having  reached  us. 

"  Your  political  demonstrations  have  succeeded  far  better.  I  re 
ceived  from  Mr.  Hoyt  a  copy  of  your  ode  for  the  8th  of  January, 
which  was,  I  trust,  sung  with  splendid  effect,  admirable  music,  and 
the  finest  voices,  at  the  Masonic  Hall.*  If  it  was  not — I  told  a  lie  to 
our  Jackson  friends. 

"  At  the  Jackson  dinner  yesterday,  after  an  admirable  speech  from 
Livingston,  full  of  interesting  anecdotes  of  the  *  Matins  of  St.  Vic 
toria  ' — for  that  he  said  is  the  Catholic  name  of  the  8th — something  was 
said  about  New  York,  to  which  the  president  (not  Mr.  Adams,  but 
General  Van  Ness)  requested  me  to  reciprocate.  I  made  a  little 
speech — regretted  that  the  letter  of  the  venerable  and  patriotic  chair 
man  of  our  New  York  dinner  conveying  an  official  toast  had  by  some 

*  Where  the  Democrats  of  New  York  kept  their  festival. 


244  THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR. 

unaccountable  accident  miscarried.  But,  that  we  might  as  far  as  pos 
sible  sympathize  with  my  constituents,  I  told  them  that  I  would  read 
a  noble  effusion  of  poetry,  at  that  moment  doubtless  thrilling  every 
bosom  in  the  Masonic  Hall.  Perhaps  my  partiality  for  the  author 
(who,  etc.,  etc.)  might  deceive  me,  but  it  seemed  to  me  to  breathe  the 
purest  spirit  of  poetry — I  was  sure  that  it  did  that  of  the  purest 
patriotism. 

"  I  then  read  the  ode  with  due  emphasis,  and  a  little  theatrically. 
Vice-President  Calhoun  nodded  approbation.  Van  Beuren  (sic)  was 
in  ecstasies,  so  was  the  Speaker  (Taylor),  and  Kremer  shouted  clamor 
ous  delight.  After  divers  cheers  I  renewed  :  '  Mr.  President,  in  the 
absence  of  any  official  instruction  from  my  gestive  constituents,  permit 
me,  instead  of  substituting  a  sentiment  of  my  own,  to  offer  you  in  their 
name  as  a  toast  the  last  stanza  of  the  verses  I  have  read :  "  Drink  to 
those  who  won,"  etc.'  * 

"  This  was  received  with  enthusiasm.  The  company  (and  at  that 
period  they  were  all  in  a  mood  to  judge  of  poetry  and  sentiment,  for 
they  had  merely  got  to  a  point  of  temperate  excitement)  shouted  and 
clapped,  the  music  brayed,  the  cannons  fired,  and  Colonel  Hayne 
swore  that  the  Jackson  cause  had  all  the  poetry  as  well  as  all  the 
virtue  of  the  land. 

•  "  Remember  me  to  M.  DeViellecour,  Miss  Huggins,  and  our  other 
friends.  I  am  yours,  very  truly, 

"  G.  C.  VERPLANCK." 

Mr.  Bryant  answered,  February  i6th,  thus: 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  not  written,  I  believe,  since  Mr.  Herbert 
got  his  letter  containing  an  account  of  the  reception  of  his  ode  at  the 
dinner  at  Washington.  He  was  wonderfully  delighted  with  it,  and  so 
also  were  his  friends.  The  artist  who  made  Plutarch  Peck's  coat, 
with  his  usual  interest  in  everything  that  relates  to  American  letters, 
called  to  obtain  a  sight  of  it,  and  a  copy  was  dispatched  to  M.  Vielle- 
cour,  who  returned  a  note  expressive  of  the  gratification  with  which  he 
had  perused  it.  Mr.  Herbert  was  observed  to  look  wonderfully  com 
placent  for  a  day  or  two,  but  his  face  grew  longer  when  Mr.  Walsh 

*  This  ode  I  once  found  in  the  "  Evening  Post,"  but  have  been  unable  to  get  at 
it  acrain. 


LETTERS   TO    VERPLANCK. 


245 


said  that  the  ode  had  been  praised  too  highly,  and  the  critical  Charles 
King  declared  it  prosaic.  However,  a  couple  of  articles  which  lately 
appeared  in  the  *  Enquirer,'  in  which  justice  is  done  to  both  Mr.  Walsh 
and  his  Jak  Rugby,  have  restored  their  usual  serenity  to  the  features 
of  our  excellent  friend. 

"  The  tariff  does  not  seem  likely  to  be  popular  to  the  eastward. 
It  was  amusing  to  observe  by  the  papers  how  it  was  received.  The 
Jackson  papers  in  that  quarter  seized  upon  it  as  a  proof  that  the  Jack 
son  party  was  friendly  to  manufactures,  or  at  least  willing  to  give  their 
friends  fair  play.  The  Adams  papers  preserved  a  dead  silence  for  a 
while,  and  then  the  storm  broke  forth.  The  '  Boston  Courier '  attacks 
the  whole  bill  tooth  and  nail,  as  you  probably  have  seen  by  this  time. 
The  dissatisfaction  with  the  tax  on  molasses  seems  to  be  pretty 
general ;  it  reaches  from  Albany  to  Portland.  An  article  from  the 
*  National  Journal,'  in  which  it  is  said  that  the  bill  does  not  meet  the 
views  of  the  real  friends  of  the  American  system,  is  copied  into  almost 
every  administration  paper  that  I  take  up  ;  and  they  all  take  their  cue 
from  it.  I  think  the  New  England  members  will  be  forced,  as  you 
predict,  to  vote  against  it.  W.  C.  B." 

These  letters  are  good  specimens  of  those  that  passed  be 
tween  Mr.  Verplanck  and  Mr.  Bryant  at  this  time,  which  are 
nearly  all  of  them  curious  mixtures  of  allusions  to  the  ideal 
characters  of  the  "  Talisman,"  or  its  progress,  and  of  discus 
sions  of  politics.  Mr.  Verplanck  was  preparing  a  new  tariff  bill, 
as  Chairman  of  the  Committee  of  Ways  and  Means,  and  Mr. 
Bryant  gave  him  what  help  he  could  with  the  details.  Some 
times  Verplanck  would  impart  to  him  the  drift  of  opinion  in 
Washington,  with  innuendos  and  speculations  as  to  the  move 
ments  of  the  great  chiefs,  which  he  would  use  in  his  news 
paper,  "  in  advance  of  the  mails,"  and  he  in  return  would  give 
the  Congressman  the  gossip  of  the  city,  and  what  the  newspa 
pers  or  prominent  authorities  were  saying  about  their  literary 
bantling.  On  one  occasion  I  find  that  Washington  Irving, 
who  was  Secretary  of  Legation  at  London,  ventured  informa 
tion  (but  not  improperly)  as  to  the  negotiations  about  the  West 
India  Trade,  which  the  editor  turned  to  use,  doubtless  to  the 


246  THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR. 

disgust  of  his  contemporaries,  whom  he  anticipated.  But  the 
interest  in  these  desultory  notes  is  now  too  remote  to  justify 
more  than  a  few  brief  extracts. 

"MAY  9,  1828:  I  publish  to-day  yours  of  the  5th,  or  at  least  a 
part  of  it,  but  so  altered  that  the  authorship  need  not  be  claimed  by 
you  unless  you  please.  It  has  also  been  thought  best  to  publish  Mr. 
McDuffie's  letter.  I  made  an  apology  for  you  on  the  day  after  the 
article  appeared  in  the  '  Commercial  ' ;  but  the  merchants  said  it  was 
sly,  and  did  not  think  it  quite  satisfactory.  It,  however,  had  the  effect 
of  disgusting  them  with  Blunt,  if  they  were  not  disgusted  before.  The 
letters  published  to-day,  particularly  Mr.  McDuffie's,  will  set  the  mat 
ter  right.  .  .  . 

"  The  demand  for  the  '  Talisman '  continues,  and  you  must  do  your 
share  for  another  year.  Inman  has  a  design  illustrating  Moore's  poem 
of  the  Dismal  Swamp,  which  I  hear  spoken  highly  of,  and  which  he 
wishes  engraved  for  the  '  Talisman.'  Will  you  pick  up  from  the  Vir 
ginians  some  particulars  of  the  Dismal  Swamp  while  you  are  at  Wash 
ington,  which  some  of  us  may  weave  into  a  narrative,  or  make  a  florid 
description  out  of." 

.  "DECEMBER  29,  1828:  The  American  Academy  of  Arts  have 
filled  their  gallery  with  copies  of  Italian  and  Flemish  paintings,  which 
an  Italian  has  brought  over  for  originals.  Some  are  good  copies,  say 
Morse  and  the  other  artists,  but  for  the  most  part  daubs.  By  the  bye, 
do  not  let  Colonel  Trumbull  paint  the  other  four  national  pictures. 
They  will  be  taken  down  again  in  twenty  years ;  and  the  Colonel  has 
got  thirty-two  thousand  dollars  already  for  his  copies.  Give  one  to 
Allston  while  he  is  not  only  alive  but  in  the  vigor  of  his  genius.  Give 
one  to  Morse,  who  is  going  abroad  next  spring  to  Rome,  who  will 
study  it  there,  and  give  five  years  of  his  life  to  it.  Give  one  to  Sully, 
and,  if  the  colonel  cannot  do  without  the  remaining  one,  let  him  have 
it  as  a  matter  of  grace." 

"JANUARY  27,  1829:  As  to  the  degree  of  favor  with  which  the 
'  Talisman '  has  been  received,  I  can  only  say  that  the  impartial  opin 
ions  seem  to  place  it  even  higher  than  last  year.  I  suppose  you  have 
seen  Buckingham's  opinion  of  it,  placing  it,  in  point  of  literary  merit, 


LETTERS  CONTINUED. 


247 


above  all  other  works  of  the  kind.  The  '  Middletown  Gazette,'  a 
paper  in  which  I  showed  you  a  criticism  on  Charles  King's  style,  ex 
pressed  the  same  opinion,  but  committed  a  great  blunder  as  to  the 
authors,  ascribing  the  book  to  Paulding,  Halleck,  and  myself.  The 
'  Norfolk  Herald '  paid  a  high  compliment  to  Mason's  engraving  of 
the  Dismal  Swamp,  which  it  said  gave  a  pleasing  view  of  the  Great 
Feeder,  with  a  lady  crossing  the  lake  by  the  fire-fly  lamps  in  a  canoe 
rowed  by  an  Indian.  As  I  told  you  beforehand,  Coleman  cannot 
abide  the  scenes  at  Washington — not  liking  the  ridicule  of  fat  women ; 
and  Lewis  Tappan  is  outrageous  against  the  '  Simple  Tale,'  which  he 
looks  upon  as  an  impious  sneer  at  the  charitable  and  religious  socie 
ties,  of  many  of  which  he  is  a  principal  pillar." 

"  FEBRUARY  9, 1829  :  People  have  done  talking  about  Miss  Wright 
here,  and  now  the  common  topic  is  General  Jackson's  health.  As 
often  as  about  once  a  week  somebody  sets  afoot  a  report  that  he  is 
dead.  This  morning  there  is  a  good  deal  of  anxiety  because  he  has 
not  got  to  Washington  yet,  although  he  has  been  allowed  eight  whole 
days  to  travel  thither  from  Pittsburgh.  As  we  have  all  set  our  hearts 
on  his  being  president,  I  solemnly  believe  that,  if  he  were  to  take  it 
into  his  head  to  die  before  he  is  declared  to  be  elected,  it  would  occa 
sion  tenfold  more  vexation  and  disappointment  than  if  Mr.  Adams  had 
received  a  majority  over  him.  We  should  all  think  it  very  unkind  of 
him,  after  all  the  trouble  we  have  been  at  on  his  account.  Besides, 
you  know  that  everybody  is  in  an  agony  of  curiosity  to  know  who  he 
will  put  into  his  Cabinet.  If  he  should  slip  off  to  the  other  world 
without  solving  this  riddle,  we  should  never  forgive  him.  Do  you  not 
intend  to  make  some  great  speech  this  session  that  we  can  publish  in 
the  '  Post,'  with  REMARKS,  'earnestly  inviting  the  attention  of  our  read 
ers  '  ?  Or  will  it  be  soon  enough  to  take  that  trouble  another  ses 
sion." 

"FEBRUARY  27,  1829:  Having  a  spare  moment,  I  think  I  cannot 
employ  it  better  than  in  taking  you  to  task  for  letting  General  Jackson 
make  so  bad  a  Cabinet.  Van  Buren  is  very  well,  but  how  comes  Ing- 
ham  to  be  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  ?  It  does  not  signify  to  say 
that  he  is  not  exactly  in  favor  of  the  tariff  as  it  now  stands;  he  is  a 
tariff  man,  infected  with  the  leaven  of  the  American  system.  Then  as 


248  THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR. 

for  capacity,  I  should  judge,  from  what  I  have  seen  of  him  in  letters 
and  speeches,  that  he  is  no  great  matter.  We  are  very  much  inclined 
to  grumble  here  at  the  appointment  of  Ingham.  Eaton,  I  have  no 
doubt,  would  have  stood  quite  as  high  in  the  general  estimation  as  to 
talent ;  I  mean,  if  he  had  never  written  the  *  Life  of  Jackson.'  Branch 
is  a  man,  too,  of  whom  we  know  little  in  this  quarter,  and  that  little 
does  not  give  us  a  high  opinion  of  him.  Berrian's  appointment  will 
be  highly  satisfactory.  I  allow,  the  Cabinet  is  as  good  as  the  last ;  the 
Treasury  Department  is  a  little  better  filled,  but  where  are  the  great 
men  whom  the  General  was  to  assemble  round  him,  the  powerful 
minds  that  were  to  make  up  for  his  deficiencies?  Where  are  the 
Tazewells,  the  Livingstons,  the  Woodburys,  the  McLanes,  etc.  ? " 

"  NEW  YORK,  AUGUST  5,  1829 :  *  You  will  see  in  to-day's  *  Evening 
Post '  an  extract  from  a  letter  concerning  a  new  picture  by  Washing 
ton  Allston  of  a  mother  and  child.  I  copied  it  from  a  letter  which 
Verplanck  has  just  received  from  Dana.  Dana  says  that  '  The  Past ' 
suited  him  exactly,  and  spoke  of  its  '  naked  strength,'  in  which  he 
thought  it  exceeded  anything  I  had  written.  He  added  that,  if  Bry 
ant  must  write  in  a  newspaper  to  get  his  bread,  he  prayed  God  he 
might  get  a  bellyful.  Dana  speaks  in  the  same  letter  of  a  poem  he 
has  been  writing,  and  says  he  thinks  he  shall  deliver  it  at  Andover. 
What  has  he  to  do  with  Andover,  I  wonder  ?  I  hope  he  is  not  studying 
divinity,  to  make  himself  a  Calvinistic  parson.  He  is  inclined  to  Cal 
vinism,  you  know,  but  I  hope  he  will  not  Andoverize  himself. 

"Yesterday  was  the  Commencement  of  Columbia  College.  It 
rained  violently,  and,  therefore,  I  neither  attended  the  exercises  nor 
went  to  the  dinner.  Theodore  Sedgwick,  the  younger,  had  the  vale 
dictory,  and  acquitted  himself  with  great  credit.  Mr.  Verplanck  spoke 
highly  in  praise  of  his  performance.  I  like  Leggett,  so  far,  very  much. 
He  seems  to  be  an  honest  man,  of  good  principles,  industrious,  and  a 
fluent  though  by  no  means  a  polished  writer." 

"  DECEMBER,  1829  :  f  We  are  greatly  obliged  to  you  for  such  oracu 
lar  hints,  for  so  they  are  received,  as  you  have  occasionally  given  us 
since  you  went  on  to  the  capital.  They  are  copied  everywhere,  even 

*  To  Mrs.  Bryant.  f  To  Mr.  Verplanck  again. 


LETTERS  CONTINUED. 

in  the  '  American.'  The  President's  message  has  been  very  favorably 
received  here.  Those  who  are  concerned  in  the  United  States  Bank 
did  not  like  the  part  relating  to  that  institution,  but  even  on  that  sub 
ject  there  is  not  much  excitement,  notwithstanding  the  opposition 
journals  have  tried  hard  to  kindle  one.  How  came  Eaton  to  suffer 
his  report  to  appear  so  overcharged  with  verbal  inaccuracies?  Partly, 
I  suppose,  by  having  an  ignorant  copyist  for  the  press,  and  partly  by 
his  own  ambition  to  be  fine  ;  but  in  either  case  he  is  inexcusable.  It 
has  given  the  small  critics  of  the  opposition  something  to  talk  about. 

"  The  *  Talisman '  I  have  little  to  tell  you  about.  If  you  see  the 
'  Courier,'  you  must  have  seen  Paulding's  article  about  it,  and  Brooks's 
certificate  to  its  merits.  Bliss  does  not  talk  of  making  much  money 
by  the  concern." 

"DECEMBER  24,  1829:  The  other  day  Mr.  Sands  showed  me  the 
third  volume  of  a  work  called  *  Tales  of  an  Indian  Camp,'  published 
in  England  by  Colburn,  and  which  Carey  and  Lea  are  to  republish 
here.  You  may  perhaps  have  seen  some  preliminary  puff  of  the  book, 
in  which  the  author  is  said  to  be  a  Mr.  Jones — J.  A.  Jones,  I  believe, 
the  same  who  wrote  the  sonnet  on  Webster  and  then  edited  a  Jackson 
paper  in  Philadelphia.  And  what  do  you  think  I  found  Mr.  Jones 
had  been  doing  in  this  third  volume  ?  Only  transplanting  my  story  of 
the  *  Cascade  of  Melsingah  '  bodily  into  his  work,  leaving  out  my  in 
troduction  and  fitting  it  with  a  short  one  of  his  own,  altering  slightly 
the  beginning  and  end  of  several  of  the  paragraphs,  and  putting  a  new 
sentence  at  the  close  of  the  whole,  but  otherwise  copying  verbatim 
about  twenty  pages  of  Mr.  Herbert's  composition.  It  is  the  same  old 
coat  with  a  new  cuff  and  collar.  Not  the  slightest  acknowledgment 
of  the  obligation  is  made  in  any  part  of  the  book.  What  adds  to  the 
man's  impudence,  he  relates  in  the  course  of  the  work,  with  the  utmost 
gravity,  as  Mr.  Sands  tells  me,  that  in  his  childhood  he  was  attended 
by  an  Indian  servant,  from  whom  he  learned  the  superstitions  and 
traditions  he  has  made  use  of  in  compiling  the  book.  This  theft  from 
me  is  not,  however,  the  only  one  the  work  contains.  The  *  Notes  to 
Yamoyden  '  are  stolen  in  the  same  wholesale  manner.  It  will  be  nec 
essary  that  the  critics  should  be  prepared  to  vindicate  Mr.  Herbert's 
literary  rights  when  the  book  comes  out.  For  my  own  part,  I  intend 
to  expose  the  robbery,  and  if  the  book  comes  in  your  way  you  will  not 


250  THE  SUBORDINATE  EDITOR. 

forget  what  is  due  to  our  old  friend.  Sands  has  seen  Carey.  He 
seems  to  entertain  the  proposition  favorably,  and  promised  to  write, 
with  an  offer  of  terms."* 

These  letters  are  important  only  as  showing  how  the  poet 
was  getting  more  and  more  busy  with  politics  and  politicians 
— a  connection  which  for  the  time  paralyzed  his  poetic  activity, 
so  that  for  nearly  three  years  after  the  close  of  the  "  Talisman  " 
he  wrote  nothing  in  verse  that  he  has  since  been  willing  to 
acknowledge. 

*  This  relates  to  the  republication  of  the  "  Talisman  "  as  "  Miscellanies." 


CHAPTER  THIRTEENTH. 

THE   EDITOR  IN   CHIEF. 
A.  D.    1829-1832. 

BY  the  death  of  Coleman,  July,  1829,  Mr.  Bryant  was  left 
chief  editor  of  the  "  Evening  Post " — in  the  ownership  of  which 
also  he  acquired  an  additional  interest  by  an  arrangement  with 
Mrs.  Coleman.  His  life-work  was  now  to  be  begun — not  that 
which  most  subtly  and  widely  influenced  his  countrymen,  but 
that  which  absorbed  the  greater  part  of  his  attention,  and  most 
taxed  his  energies.  He  had  abandoned  his  profession  and 
come  to  the  city  to  engage  in  a  purely  literary  career,  and 
here  he  was  involved  in  journalism,  of  which  so  much  is  mere 
hackwork  and  routine.  It  is  no  winged  Pegasus  he  mounts, 
to  curvet  and  caracole  in  the  air,  amid  the  plaudits  of  onlook 
ers,  but  a  sorrier  steed,  as  fiery,  perhaps,  as  his  fabled  brother, 
whose  path  lies  on  the  dusty  highways  of  life,  and  among  the 
clamors  of  noisy  and  ferocious  combatants.  Could  he  have 
anticipated  at  the  time  the  whirlpool  of  agitation  and  toil 
into  which  it  would  plunge  him  for  the  greater  part  of  his 
days? 

His  personal  character— -his  stern  self-respect,  and  pervad 
ing  sense  of  responsibility  in  all  that  he  did — lifted  his  employ 
ment  at  once  into  a  region  of  elevation  and  dignity.  Know 
ing  the  power  of  the  press,  if  wielded  in  a  worthy  manner, 
knowing  also  its  temptations  to  time  serving  and  slackness  of 
performance,  he  resolved  that  if  in  his  hands  it  fell  short  of  the 
noblest  ideals,  it  should  not  be  for  the  want  of  upright  purposes 


252  THE  EDITOR  IN  CHIEF. 

and  persistent  endeavor.  Of  the  spirit  in  which  he  approached 
his  task,  I  shall  allow  him  to  speak  in  a  passage  which  fur 
nishes  a  clew  to  his  subsequent  career,  and  which  may  not  be 
wholly  devoid  of  instruction  to  his  fellow-journalists  even  at 
this  later  day  :  * 

"  The  class  of  men,"  he  said,  "  who  figure  in  this  country  as  the 
conductors  of  newspapers  are  not,  for  the  most  part,  in  high  esteem 
with  the  community.  It  is  true,  they  are  courted  by  some,  and 
dreaded  by  others — courted  by  those  who  are  fond  of  praise,  and 
dreaded  by  those  who  are  sensitive  to  animadversion ;  courted  by 
those  who  would  use  their  instruments  for  their  own  purposes,  and 
dreaded  by  those  whose  plans  may  suffer  from  their  opposition — but, 
after  all,  the  general  feeling  with  which  they  are  regarded  is  by  no 
means  favorable.  Contempt  is  too  harsh  a  name  for  it,  perhaps,  but 
it  is  far  below  respect.  Nor  does  this  arise  from  the  insincerity  or 
frivolousness  of  their  commendation  or  their  dispraise  in  the  thousand 
opinions  they  express  in  matters  of  art,  science,  and  taste,  concern 
ing  all  of  which  they  are  expected  to  say  something,  and  concern 
ing  many  of  which  they  cannot  know  much,  as  from  the  fact  that  pro 
fessing,  as  they  do,  one  of  the  noblest  of  sciences,  that  of  politics — in 
other  words,  the  science  of  legislation  and  government — they  too 
often  profess  it  in  a  narrow,  ignorant,  ignoble  spirit.  Every  journal 
ist  is  a  politician,  of  course ;  but  in  how  many  instances  does  he  as 
pire  to  no  higher  office  than  that  of  an  ingenious  and  dexterous  par 
tisan  ?  He  does  not  look  at  political  doctrines  and  public  measures 
in  a  large  and  comprehensive  way,  weighing  impartially  their  ultimate 
good  or  evil,  but  addicts  himself  to  considerations  of  temporary  expe 
diency.  He  inquires  not  what  is  right,  just,  and  true  at  all  times, 
but  what  petty  shift  will  serve  his  present  purpose.  He  makes  poli 
tics  an  art  rather  than  a  science — a  matter  of  finesse  rather  than  of 
philosophy.  He  inflames  prejudices  which  he  knows  to  be  ground 
less  because  he  thinks  them  convenient.  He  detracts  from  the  per 
sonal  merits  of  men  whom  he  knows  to  be  most  worthy.  He  con 
demns  in  another  party  what  he  allows  in  his  own.  In  short,  he 
considers  his  party  as  a  set  of  men  who  are  tc  be  kept  in  office,  if 

*  "  Memoir  of  William  Leggett,"  "  Democratic  Review,"  July,  1829. 


POLITICAL   CREED.  253 

they  are  already  in,  or  placed  in  office,  if  they  are  not,  at  any  hazard, 
instead  of  making  it  his  duty  to  support  certain  doctrines  and  meas 
ures,  and  to  recommend  them  to  the  people  by  reason  and  argument, 
and  by  showing  their  beneficial  effects  and  the  evils  of  opposite  doc 
trines  and  different  measures.  .  .  .  Yet  the  vocation  of  the  newspaper 
editor  is  a  useful  and  indispensable,  and,  if  rightly  exercised,  a  noble 
vocation.  It  possesses  this  essential  element  of  dignity — that  they 
who  are  engaged  in  it  are  occupied  with  questions  of  the  highest  im 
portance  to  the  happiness  of  mankind.  We  cannot  see,  for  our  part, 
why  it  should  not  attract  men  of  the  first  talents  and  the  most  ex 
alted  virtues.  Why  should  not  the  discussions  of  the  daily  press 
demand  as  strong  reasoning  powers,  as  large  and  comprehensive  ideas, 
as  profound  an  acquaintance  with  principles,  eloquence  as  command 
ing,  and  a  style  of  argument  as  manly  and  elevated,  as  the  debates 
of  the  Senate  ?  " 

Running  through  this  exposition  of  his  professional  creed 
are  references  to  the  philosophy  or  science  of  politics,  which 
are  not  vague  words  with  him.  Already  a  firm  believer  in 
the  doctrines  of  political  economy,  as  they  had  taken  shape  in 
the  English  and  Continental  treatises,  he  had  persuaded  him 
self  that  society,  in  satisfying  its  natural  wants,  or  in  procur 
ing,  assimilating,  and  distributing  the  means  of  its  nourish 
ment,  acted  as  a  spontaneous  organism.  In  this  respect  the 
social  nature  of  man,  like  external  nature,  was  subject  to  fixed 
and  invariable  laws,  which  scientific  induction  might  discover 
and  formulate,  but  which  it  was  beyond  the  power  of  legisla 
tion  to  modify,  except  arbitrarily  and  to  the  detriment  of  hu 
man  well-being.  But  if  such  is  the  case,  if  in  this  important 
order  of  its  functions,  society  is  capable  of  operating  harmo 
niously  without  political  interference,  and  impelled  alone  by 
permanent  and  indefeasible  impulses,  what  is  the  use  of  gov 
ernment?  In  what  sphere,  to  what  extent,  under  what  limita 
tions,  may  the  hand  of  authority  interpose  in  the  regulation 
of  social  movements?  Mr.  Bryant's  answer  was  that  com 
monly  given  by  the  disciples  of  laisscz  faire,  but  with  a  differ 
ence.  Government,  he  said,  is  the  organ  and  representative 


254  THE  EDITOR  IN  CHIEF. 

of  the  whole  community,  not  of  a  class,  or  of  any  fraction  of 
that  community.  Its  primary  duty,  therefore,  is  to  maintain 
the  conditions  of  universal  liberty  or  the  equilibrium  and  har 
mony  of  the  social  forces  so  that  the  energies  of  the  individual 
may  the  most  freely  act  and  expand,  according  to  his  own 
judgment,  his  own  capacities,  his  own  views  of  the  duties  and 
destinies  of  man  here  upon  earth.  It  must  not  undertake  di 
rectly  any  enterprises  of  its  own — religious,  intellectual,  artis 
tic,  or  economical — but  it  must  secure  a  perfectly  safe  and 
open  field  to  every  kind  of  enterprise  and  to  every  one  of  its 
members.  In  a  wordj  its  functions  are  juridical — to  protect 
and  maintain  rights — and  not  paternal  or  eleemosynary — to  en 
courage,  nurse,  and  coddle  interests,  save  in  so  far  as  those 
interests  are  general,  or  common  to  every  member  of  the 
body-politic.  Liberty,  justice,  order,  are  its  supreme,  almost 
exclusive  ends,  and  not  prosperity,  which  will  come  of  itself 
when  those  ends  are  attained.  On  this  theory  of  the  State, 
Mr.  Bryant  contended,  our  institutions  as  a  nation  are  dis 
tinctively  built,  and  either  we  must  give  up  our  pretensions 
to  democracy  or  carry  them  out  with  a  manly  courage  to 
every  logical  and  practicable  result.  Whether  he  was  right 
or  wrong  in  his  notions,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  his  exalted 
conception  of  the  true  nature  of  governmental  agency  gave  a 
rare  dignity  to  his  discussions,  and  won  for  him,  in  the  end, 
a  public  confidence  that  has  seldom  been  surpassed  in  any 
editorial  career. 

He  was  all  the  more  convinced  of  the  soundness  of  his  po 
litical  philosophy  because  it  was  at  one  with  his  moral  in 
stincts.  Holding  that  the  proper  aim  of  morality  was  not 
a  mere  outward  obedience  to  an  established  rule,  but  an  in 
ward  recognition  of  the  true  manhood  of  man,  or  reverence 
for  that  rationality,  conscience,  and  freedom  which  are  the 
sole  and  characteristic  attributes  of  human  nature,  the  em 
phatic  injunction  of  the  Apostle,  "  Honor  all  men,"  consti 
tuted  for  him  the  practical  side  of  ethics.  It  brought,  as  he 
thought,  his  politics  into  a  complete  unity  of  principle  with 


PRACTICAL    VIEWS. 


255 


his  religion,  "  the  perfect  law  of  love  "  displayed  in  the  life 
and  teaching  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  was,  in  a  word,  thoroughly, 
radically,  intensely  a  Democrat,  but  of  the  positive  rather  than 
the  negative  school  of  democracy,  which,  insisting  upon  the 
rights  of  the  individual,  maintains  also  the  duties  of  the  indi 
vidual  to  every  one  of  his  fellow-men. 

Baldly  stated  as  they  are  here,  these  opinions  would  seem 
to  be  the  merest  doctrinarianism ;  yet  in  theory,  as  in  prac 
tice,  Mr.  Bryant  was  very  far  removed  from  the  simple  doc 
trinaire.  His  principles,  I  think,  never  came  to  him  as  a  sys 
tem.  They  were  the  results  of  his  feelings  rather  than  of  his 
thoughts  or  of  any  deliberate  process  of  reflection.  His  pro 
found  love  and  respect  for  his  fellow-men ;  his  unwillingness 
to  ask  for  himself  what  he  would  not  concede  to  another  and 
to  all  others ;  his  humility,  his  sense  of  justice,  his  yearning 
for  progress  in  all  the  nobler  arts  of  life ;  and  his  deep,  relig 
ious  reverence  for  a  humanity  which  the  Most  High  had  not 
disdained  to  assume  with  a  view  to  its  ultimate  glorification 
on  earth  as  in  heaven — these  were  the  sources  of  his  abstract 
political  convictions.  Nevertheless,  in  the  discharge  of  his 
actual  duties  he  was  eminently  practical.  No  one,  indeed, 
not  even  the  statesman  in  power,  is  more  imperatively  re 
quired  to  consider  the  real  condition  and  feelings  of  society 
than  the  political  editor  who  aspires  to  be  a  teacher  and  guide 
of  men.  All  his  problems  come  to  him  in  the  concrete,  as 
something  to  be  resolved  there  and  then,  and  to  be  resolved 
in  a  way  that  will  satisfy  a  large  number  of  his  contempora 
ries.  If  he  should  treat  them  in  the  abstract  only,  he  would 
soon  be  without  an  audience.  He  may,  like  the  statesman, 
secretly  worship  an  ideal  of  policy,  and  be  forever  reaching 
toward  the  realization  of  it  in  his  practical  measures;  but 
he  must  also,  like  the  statesman,  take  into  account  the  opin 
ions  and  tendencies  of  his  fellows,  or  the  living  spirit  of  his 
age  and  nation.  Mr.  Bryant  was  a  careful  observer  of  these 
circumstances ;  he  read  with  attention  the  newspapers  and 
magazines  of  all  parties ;  he  conversed  freely  with  men  of  all 


256  THE  EDITOR  IN  CHIEF. 

conditions,  and  particularly  with  the  plain  people  whom  he 
encountered  in  his  many  rambles ;  and  he  cultivated  the  habit, 
in  his  discussions,  of  always  arguing  from  the  specific  instances 
in  hand.  Thus,  in  his  innumerable  strictures  upon  our  tariff 
legislation,  he  seldom  recurs  to  general  principles,  but  dwells 
upon  the  duty  on  iron,  the  duty  on  woollens,  the  duty  on  salt, 
etc.,  showing  its  immediate  influence  on  society  as  it  is,  and 
in  all  its  ramifications  of  interest.  Of  course,  he  carries  with 
him,  without  expressing  them,  his  fundamental  convictions,  as 
everybody  must  do  who  would  not  render  his  reasonings  a 
jumble  of  transient  expedients,  but  the  special  case  is  relied 
upon  to  enforce  his  conviction,  rather  than  the  conviction  to 
enforce  the  special  case.  It  was  a  part  of  his  strategy,  I  may 
further  observe,  never  to  fly  violently  in  the  face  of  existing 
prejudices  if  it  could  be  helped,  but  to  dislodge  them  by  at 
tacks  on  the  flank  and  rear.  If,  however,  victory  was  not 
otherwise  to  be  obtained,  he  had  the  courage  to  march  boldly 
and  openly  to  the  point  of  attack,  and  to  take  the  consequence 
of  battle. 

Unfortunately,  he  found  himself,  from  the  outset  of  his 
editorial  career,  in  sharp  conflict  with  a  large  and  powerful 
force  of  public  opinion.  A  mass  of  schemes  growing  out  of 
the  needs  of  our  young  and  impatient  material  civilization 
confronted  him,  w^hich  not  only  proceeded  upon  theories 
of  government  the  reverse  of  his  own,  but  which  threatened 
to  swamp  all  rational  notions  of  government  in  a  deluge  of 
selfish  and  avaricious  clamors.  These  schemes  were  prose 
cuted  by  a  great  party,  strong  alike  in  numbers,  intelligence, 
and  wealth,  and  upheld  by  leaders  distinguished  for  intellect 
and  eloquence.  One  segment  of  this  numerous  body,  com 
prising  the  bankers  and  merchants,  endeavored  to  control, 
by  means  of  allied  incorporations,  the  issues  of  paper  cur 
rencies,  which  exercised  all  the  functions  of  money ;  another 
part,  composed  of  the  manufacturers,  demanded  bounties  in 
the  shape  of  prohibitory  and  discriminating  taxes  against 
foreign  rivals ;  and  a  third  raved  for  subsidies  to  enable 


JACKSON'S  ADMINISTRATION.  257 

them  to  construct  local  roads  and  canals,  and  to  clear  out 
unnavigablc  harbors  and  rivers  in  the  name  of  internal  im 
provements.  They  all  agreed  in  one  thing — in  mercenary 
intentions  against  the  common  treasury.  It  required  no  ex 
traordinary  reach  or  astuteness  of  sagacity  to  see  what  a  stu 
pendous  means  of  bribery  their  conjoint  bids  for  favors  were 
likely  to  become  in  our  popular  Congressional  and  Presiden 
tial  elections;  or  how  much  they  tended  to  an  overwhelm 
ing  concentration  of  power  in  the  hands  of  successful  party 
managers  ;  or  what  an  evil  lesson  they  taught  practically  to 
the  masses  of  people,  whom  they  persuaded  that  national 
prosperity  depends  not  upon  individual  energy  and  individ 
ual  economy,  but  upon  the  fostering  care  and  corrupting 
patronage  of  government.  It  was  in  this  light,  at  least,  that 
Mr.  Bryant  saw  these  projects,  and  he  set  himself  against 
them  with  all  his  ardor  and  ability. 

It  was  for  some  time  doubtful  during  Jackson's  candidacy 
whether,  if  elected,  he  would  turn  the  Federal  power  in  favor 
or  against  the  enterprising  classes,  as  they  were  called.  Orig 
inally  brought  forward  by  Federalists,  he  was  yet  known  to  be 
not  of  their  way  of  thinking.  During  a  brief  senatorial  term 
he  had  rather  given  in  to  the  prevailing  views,  and  voted  for 
tariffs  and  internal  improvements.  But  after  his  nomination, 
and  before  his  election,  he  looked  decidedly  in  another  direc 
tion.  Educated  in  the  tenets  of  the  old  Republicans,  and  pro 
fessing  an  earnest  sympathy  with  the  masses  rather  than  classes 
of  the  people,  his  known  character  and  unknown  views  awak 
ened  a  dread  of  him  which  lent  a  great  deal  of  passion  and 
bitterness  to  the  contest.  It  raged  in  the  end  with  a  vehe 
mence  that  had  scarcely  been  equalled  since  the  days  of  Jef 
ferson.  On  reaching  the  chair  of  State,  Jackson  was  not  long 
in  letting  it  be  understood  that  the  reins  of  government  were 
in  his  hands.  Professing  to  be  guided  by  a  spirit  of  the  ut 
most  impartiality  and  justice,  he  did  not  conceal  his  very  de 
cided  party  proclivities.  "  The  blessings  of  government,"  he 
said,  "like  the  dews  of  heaven,  must  fall  upon  all  alike,"  which 

VOL.  I.— 18 


258  THE  EDITOR  IN  CHIEF. 

was  not  a  consolatory  remark  for  those  who  lived  upon  its 
special  favors. 

The  administration  of  Jackson,  beginning  only  three  months 
before  Mr.  Bryant's  editorship,  was  a  stormy  one  throughout. 
His  whispered  suspicions  of  the  National  Bank,  the  charter 
of  which  was  to  expire  in  a  few  years ;  his  vetoes  of  road  and 
harbor  bills  on  the  ground  of  their  want  of  national  scope  and 
bearing ;  the  enmity  of  his  friends,  less  ambiguous  than  his 
own,  to  the  device  of  protection,  which  they  seemed  deter 
mined  to  defeat  in  detail,  if  not  in  gross  ;  his  plan  for  the  re 
moval  of  the  Indian  tribes  beyond  the  limits  of  the  States — 
furnished  themes  for  excited  debates  on  home  affairs ;  while 
at  a  later  day  his  vigorous  prosecution  of  our  claims  against 
France,  and  his  frank  but  determined  dealing  with  Great  Brit 
ain  in  questions  of  colonial  trade,  kept  alive  in  many  minds  a 
hovering  fear  of  foreign  complications. 

It  is  for  history,  not  biography,  to  write  an  account  of 
these  disputes.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  in  all  of  them  the  Presi 
dent  had  no  more  efficient  supporter  than  the  "  Evening  Post." 
It  caught  a  good  deal  of  its  hero's  courage  and  energy,  and 
could  be  at  times,  in  spite  of  its  habitual  decorum,  exasperat 
ing  and  fiery.  Once  indeed  —  and  only  once  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  fifty  years  of  editorial  experience — Mr.  Bryant 
so  lost  the  control  of  himself  that  he  inflicted  personal  chas 
tisement  upon  an  adversary  who  had  given  him  the  lie  direct. 
It  was  the  impulse  of  a  moment,  as  the  parties  passed  each 
other  in  the  street,  and  regretted  almost  as  soon  as  it  was 
done.  The  next  day  Mr.  Bryant  recounted  the  incidents  of 
the  affair  impartially,  stating  the  gross  provocation  that  he 
had  received,  but  apologizing  to  the  public  for  having  so  in 
discreetly  taken  the  law  into  his  own  hands.  He  could  never 
afterward  hear  the  matter  alluded  to  without  annoyance,  and 
particularly  when  it  was  intimated  to  him  that  the  person  who 
had  given  the  offence  was  not  the  one  who  had  been  subjected 
to  its  penalty.  With  the  exception  of  this  unfortunate  occur 
rence,  Mr.  Bryant,  though  railed  at  with  the  vulgar  and  vio- 


POLITICAL  PROSCRIPTION.  059 

lent  vituperations  of  our  journals,  confined  his  replies  to  words 
which  were  trenchant  and  severe  enough,  but  never  tran 
scending  the  bounds  of  allowable  party  warfare.  Nor  was  he 
often  blinded  by  the  smoke  of  battle  to  the  shortcomings  and 
misdeeds  of  his  party  associates.  He  castigated  them,  when 
he  had  occasion,  with  the  same  plainness  of  phrase  that  he 
used  toward  his  adversaries,  and  not  infrequently  incurred 
their  displeasure.  We  shall  see,  as  the  anti-slavery  feeling 
took  form  and  prominence,  that  his  journal  was  not  afraid 
of  prodding  even  the  "  old  lion  "  in  his  den. 

In  one  respect,  I  feel  bound  to  say,  the  "Evening  Post" 
permitted  its  party  attachments  to  close  its  eyes  to  a  most  de 
plorable  phase  of  Jackson's  administration.  There  were  in  it 
no  rebukes — rather  defences,  or,  if  that  word  be  too  strong, 
pleas  in  abatement  —  of  the  practice  of  removing  political 
opponents  from  office,  which  did  not  originate  with  Jack 
son,  but  was  greatly  extended  by  him,  under  the  pernicious 
maxim  that  "  to  the  victors  belong  the  spoils  of  the  enemy," 
and  which  has  since  grown  into  a  prodigious  and  most  men 
acing  abuse.  It  is  true  that  Mr.  Coleman,  who  was  an  ar 
dent  admirer  of  Edmund  Burke,  had  before  committed  the 
journal  to  the  opinion  that  administrations  should  be  kept 
entirely  in  the  hands  of  their  political  friends.  He  justified 
himself  by  quotations  of  passages  in  Burke's  "  Thoughts  on 
Present  Discontents,"  *  which  argue  that,  while  it  is  "  the 
business  of  the  speculative  philosopher  to  mark  the  proper 
ends  of  government,"  it  is  the  business  of  the  politician,  who 
is  the  philosopher  in  action,  "  to  pursue  every  just  method 
to  put  the  men  who  hold  his  opinions  in  such  a  condition 
as  may  enable  them  to  carry  their  common  plans  into  exe 
cution  with  all  the  power  and  authority  of  the  State."  It 
was  not  seen,  or  if  it  was  seen  it  was  concealed,  that  Burke's 
words  apply  only  to  chiefs  of  departments,  who  control  the 
policy  of  government,  and  not  to  subordinates,  who  are 

*  Eurke's  Poetical  Works,  vol.  i,  p.  530,  et  al.     Boston  edition. 


260  THE  EDITOR  IN  CHIEF. 

mere  ministerial  agents,  while  he  protests  in  so  many  words 
against  the  use  of  "proscription."  Jackson  himself,  before 
his  election,  enunciated  the  true  principle.  "  The  chief  mag 
istrate,"  he  said,  "of  a  great  and  powerful  nation  should  never 
indulge  in  party  feelings.  His  conduct  should  be  liberal  and 
disinterested,  always  bearing  in  mind  that  he  acts  for  the 
whole,  and  not  a  part,  of  the  community."  But  the  pressure 
of  hungry  supporters,  acting  upon  his  too  ready  and  impas 
sioned  resentments,  overcame  the  scruples  of  his  better  judg 
ment,  and  the  example  of  proscription  which  he  set,  only  too 
faithfully  followed  by  his  successors  of  all  parties,  has  con 
verted  our  political  contests  into  reckless  scrambles  for  office, 
generated  a  class  of  professional  politicians,  who  control  the 
entire  machinery  of  elections,  and  opened  the  way  and  given 
impulse  to  systems  of  bargaining  and  corruption  which  are  the 
most  imminent  and  fearful  dangers  of  the  republic.  Mr.  Bry 
ant,  in  process  of  time,  discovered  the  tendencies  of  this  de 
testable  bigotry,*  and  took  a  prominent  part  in  the  endeavor 
to  arrest  and  correct  its  evils.  Alas  !  how  little  has  yet  been 
accomplished  toward  a  real  amelioration  ! 

Our  editor's  interests  were  not  confined  to  the  affairs  of  his 
own  country.  The  decade,  beginning  in  1830,  the  reader  will 
remember,  was  the  heyday  of  what  Carlyle  used  to  ridicule  so 
scornfully  as  "  glorious  enfranchisements  "  and  "  rose-water 
millenniums,"  when  the  minds  of  the  race  both  in  Europe  and 
America  were  full  of  regenerating  effervescences.  It  was  the 
day  of  political  revolution  in  France,  Belgium,  Poland,  Italy, 
and  South  America,  of  Catholic  and  West  India  Emancipa 
tions,  of  reform  bills  in  England,  and  of  various  smaller  phi 
lanthropies,  moral  and  social,  everywhere — such  as  improved 
jurisprudence,  wholesomer  dietetics,  disciplined  prisons,  so- 

*  "  The  practice  of  sweeping  and  indiscriminate  dismissions  from  office  for  opin 
ion's  sake,"  he  wrote,  "  corrupts  our  elections,  embitters  party  quarrels,  and  makes 
many  cowards  and  many  hypocrites.  Its  effect  is  to  put  bad  men  in  office,  by  render 
ing  party  zeal  a  principal  qualification,  and  causing  appointments  to  be  made  with 
too  much  haste  to  be  made  well." — "  Evening  Post,"  but  not  till  November  28, 1842. 


REVOLUTIONARY  SYMPATHIES.  26l 

cietarv  experiments,  and  fervent  religious  revivals.  Mr.  Brv- 
ant  did  not  escape  the  prevalent  tendencies.  He  watched 
the  larger  struggles  with  earnest  attention  and  outspoken  sym 
pathy  ;  he  signed  and  commended  calls  for  meetings  gotten 
up  to  express  opinions,  or  to  raise  money,  in  behalf  of  the  Eu 
ropean  revolutionists ;  and,  rejoicing  in  their  successes,  he  par 
ticipated  in  feeling,  if  not  always  in  person,  in  the  processions 
and  dinners  that  celebrated  their  supposed  triumphs.  Even 
for  the  less  imposing  revolts  of  the  South  Americans  against 
the  Spanish  yoke,  he  uttered  many  a  friendly  word,  defending 
the  character  and  conduct  of  such  chiefs  as  Bolivar,  and  ear 
nestly  urging  the  patriots  to  renewed  exertions  whenever  they 
seemed  about  to  fail.  O'Connell  in  Ireland  excited  his  warm 
admiration,  and  when  the  victory  was  achieved  he  joined 
heartily  in  the  commemorating  festivities.  He  must,  I  infer, 
have  made  hirnself  somewhat  prominent  in  these  demonstra 
tions  ;  for  in  a  letter  from  Gamier  Pages,*  dated  Paris,  June, 
1830,  he  is  addressed  as  one  "  whose  occupations  and  labors,  as 
well  as  personal  character,"  would  be  of  the  greatest  assistance 
to  the  liberal  cause  in  Europe.  "  We  have,"  continues  M.  Pa 
ges,  "  the  most  incomplete  notion  of  the  United  States,  which 
yet  furnishes  us  the  model  that  we  wish  to  imitate.  You  have 
arrived  at  that  happy  state  in  which  you  have  nothing  to  think 
of  but  the  conservation  of  the  political  well-being  you  enjoy, 
while  we  in  France  must  fight  continually  to  acquire  what  you 
already  possess.  May  I  then  ask  of  you,  who  are  so  com 
petent  to  give  them,  the  instructions  that  we  so  much  need  in 
our  circumstances?  "  etc.  I  have  no  means  of  saying  to  what 
extent  Mr.  Bryant  put  himself  in  relation  with  the  continental 
leaders,  or  that  he  did  so  at  all. 

His  zeal  in  the  smaller  reformatory  movements  was  less 
marked ;  for,  while  he  approved  the  objects  of  many  of  them, 
such  as  the  Prison  Discipline  and  Anti-Capital-Punishment  So 
cieties,  he  kept  somewhat  aloof  from  reformers  themselves, 

*  A  member  of  the  Provisional  Government  of  1848. 


262  THE  EDITOR  IN  CHIEF. 

who  were  apt  to  be  shallow  yet  overbearing  men,  of  less 
agreeable  companionship  and  chatter  than  the  trees  and  birds 
he  found  in  the  woods.  He  once  or  twice  presided  at  unim 
portant  meetings,  but  I  do  not  discover  that  he  cared  to  speak. 
His  adherence  to  the  doctrines  of  Hahnemann  in  medical  prac 
tice  dated  from  a  later  period  ;  and,  although  the  preachers  of 
"the  vegetable  gospel"  claimed  him  as  a  convert,  we  have 
seen  that  his  habits  of  living  were  a  matter  of  necessity,  im 
posed  upon  him  long  before  by  the  state  of  his  health. 

In  all  his  professional  labors  Mr.  Bryant  had  a  most  able 
associate  in  William  Leggett,  whom  he  called  to  his  assistance 
shortly  after  the  death  of  Coleman.  He  was  a  native  of  the 
city,  who  for  a  few  years  had  served  as  a  midshipman  in  the 
navy,  which  he  abandoned  because  of  some  real  or  fancied 
tyranny  on  the  part  of  a  superior  officer.  For  a  while,  then,  he 
wrote  tales  and  verses  that  acquired  him  local  repute  enough 
to  justify  the  issue  of  a  weekly  periodical  called  the  "  Critic," 
of  several  of  the  later  numbers  of  which  he  composed  the  en 
tire  contents — reviews,  essays,  tales,  biographical  notices,  and 
poems,  besides  putting  it  in  type  and  delivering  it  to  its  sub 
scribers.  At  the  outset  of  his  engagement,  Mr.  Leggett  stipu 
lated  that  he  should  not  be  asked  to  write  on  politics,  "  a  sub 
ject  he  did  not  understand,  and  for  which  he  had  no  taste," 
but  in  less  than  a  year  he  overcame  both  his  ignorance  and 
aversion,  and  wrote  fluently  and  copiously  on  questions  of 
free-trade,  currency,  abolitionism,  and  constitutional  law.  It 
must  be  said,  however,  in  excuse  of  this  appearance  of  haste, 
that  he  was  an  unusually  industrious  student,  quick  of  percep 
tion,  ardent  in  the  love  of  truth,  supremely  disinterested,  and 
if  too  rapid  in  the  formation  of  his  judgments,  and  fearless  in 
the  expression  of  them,  frank  in  the  avowal  of  his  errors,  and 
always  amenable  to  instruction.  As  he  had  been,  like  Mr. 
Bryant,  a  known  writer  of  verses — in  his  case  such  as  young 
sailors  are  apt  to  perpetrate  during  moonlight  nights  at  sca 
the  wags  of  the  opposition  press  lost  no  time  in  christening 
them  "  The  Chaunting  Cherubs  of  the  '  Evening  Post.' "  More 


NO    TIME  FOR  POETRY.  263 

impetuous  in  temperament  than  his  chief,  he  sometimes  needed 
restraint,  but  for  the  most  part  his  writing  added  to  the  vigor 
of  the  journal  and  helped  to  raise  it  to  the  leadership  it  soon 
attained. 

Arduous  and  incessant  work  on  his  paper  left  Mr.  Bryant 
no  time  for  poetical  labor.  After  the  pieces  prepared  for  the 
last  number  of  the  "Talisman" — early  in  1829 — he  wrote  no 
poetry  for  some  years,  as  I  have  said — once,  in  1832,  after  a  visit 
to  the  Western  prairies,  but  not  again  until  his  residence  in 
Europe  in  1835.  Resolved,  however,  not  to  be  lost  to  the  liter 
ary  world  altogether,  he  prepared,  in  1831,  a  volume  of  poems, 
comprising  all  that  he  had  published  since  the  little  pamphlet 
of  1821  was  printed.  It  contained  about  eighty  additional 
pieces — not  a  luxuriant  crop  for  ten  years,  considering  quan 
tity,  but  of  rare  worth  and  significance  in  respect  to  quality.* 
When  it  appeared,  the  reviews,  with  the  single  exception  of  a 
Philadelphia  periodical,  which  thought  but  poorly  of  it,  recog 
nized  its  merits.  Mr.  William  J.  Snelling,  in  the  "  North 
American,"  pronounced  it  "  the  best  volume  of  American 
poetry  that  had  ever  appeared."  f  Mr.  Longfellow,  in  the  same 
number,  \  referred  to  his  translations  "  as  rivalling  the  originals 
in  beauty."  "  He  is,"  said  Mr.  H.  W.  Prescott,  in  the  next  num 
ber,  §  discoursing  of  American  literature  in  general,  "  placed 
by  general  consent  at  the  head  of  our  poetic  literature.  His 
writings  are  distinguished  by  those  graces  which  belong  to 
naturally  fine  perceptions  and  a  chastened  taste.  A  deep 
moral  purity,  serious  but  not  sad,  tinctures  most  of  his  views 
of  man  and  nature,  and  insensibly  raises  thought  from  the  con 
templation  of  their  lower  objects  to  that  of  the  mind  who 
formed  them."  Mr.  Hugh  Swinton  Legar6  had  before  con 
fessed,  in  the  "  Southern  Quarterly,"  [  that,  proposing  to  sub- 

*  Poems.     By  William  Cullen  Bryant.     New  York  :  Elam  Bliss,  1832. 

f  "North  American,"  April,  1832. 

J  April,  1832. 

§  July,  1832. 

|  "Southern  Quarterly  Review,"  February,  1832. 


264  THE  EDITOR  IN  CHIEF. 

ject  them  to  rigid  criticism,  he  had  turned  down  the  pages  he 
wished  to  remark  upon,  but  found,  before  he  got  through, 
that  he  had  turned  down  nearly  every  leaf  in  the  volume  for 
commendation.  Other  writers  were  no  less  generous ;  and  it 
was  this  chorus  of  approval,  doubtless,  that  induced  him  to 
test  the  hospitality  of  England  toward  a  new  American  pro 
duction.  At  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  Verplanck,  he  sent  a  copy 
of  his  book  to  Washington  Irving,  who,  as  our  pioneer  in 
prose,  it  was  natural  to  suppose,  would  lend  a  helping  hand 
to  a  pioneer  in  poetry.  He  was  then  residing  abroad  ;  and, 
though  Mr.  Bryant  was  unacquainted  with  him  personally,  he 
had  every  reason  to  rely  upon  his  amiability  and  kindness. 
Some  time  before,  Irving,  writing  to  his  friend  Brevoort,  from 
Madrid,  in  1826,  had  said:  "  I  have  been  charmed  by  what  I 
have  seen  of  the  writings  of  Bryant  and  Halleck.  Are  you 
acquainted  with  them?  I  should  like  to  know  something 
about  them  personally ;  their  vein  of  thinking  is  quite  above 
that  of  ordinary  men  and  ordinary  poets ;  and  they  are  mas 
ters  of  the  magic  of  poetic  language."  *  This  expression  had 
been  communicated  to  Mr.  Bryant,  who  would  have  scrupled 
else  to  ask  the  services  of  a  stranger.  He  wrote  to  Mr.  Irving, 
December  29,  1831,  as  follows: 

"  SIR  :  I  have  put  to  press  in  this  city  a  duodecimo  volume  of  two 
hundred  and  forty  pages,  comprising  all  my  poems  which  I  thought 
worth  printing,  most  of  which  have  already  appeared.  Several  of 
them  I  believe  you  have  seen,  and  of  some,  if  I  am  rightly  informed, 
you  have  been  pleased  to  express  a  favorable  opinion.  Before  pub 
lishing  the  thing  here,  I  have  sent  a  copy  of  it  to  Murray,  the  London 
bookseller,  by  whom  I  am  anxious  that  it  should  be  published  in 
England.  I  have  taken  the  liberty,  which  I  hope  you  will  pardon  a 
countryman  of  yours,  who  relies  on  the  known  kindness  of  your  dis 
position  to  plead  his  excuse,  of  referring  him  to  you.  As  it  is  not 
altogether  impossible  that  the  work  might  be  republished  in  England, 


*  "Life  and  Letters  of  Washington  Irving,"  vol.  iii,  p.  241.     New  York  :  Put 
nam's  Sons,  1880. 


POEMS  PUBLISHED  IN  ENGLAND.  265 

if  I  did  not  offer  it  myself,  I  could  wish  that  it  might  be  published  by 
a  respectable  bookseller  in  a  respectable  manner. 

"  I  have  written  to  Mr.  Verplanck,  desiring  him  to  give  me  a  letter 
to  you  on  the  subject ;  but,  as  the  packet  which  takes  out  my  book  will 
sail  before  I  can  receive  an  answer,  I  have  presumed  so  far  on  your 
goodness  as  to  make  the  application  myself.  May  I  ask  of  you  the 
favor  to  write  to  Mr.  Murray  on  the  subject  as  soon  as  you  receive 
this.  In  my  letter  to  him  I  have  said  nothing  of  the  terms,  which, 
of  course,  will  depend  upon  circumstances  which  I  may  not  know,  or 
of  which  I  cannot  judge.  I  should  be  glad  to  receive  something  for 
the  work,  but,  if  he  does  not  think  it  worth  the  while  to  give  anything, 
I  had  rather  that  he  should  take  it  for  nothing  than  that  it  should  not 
be  published  by  a  respectable  bookseller. 

"  I  must  again  beg  you  to  excuse  the  freedom  I  have  taken.  I  have 
no  personal  acquaintance  in  England  whom  I  could  ask  to  do  what  I 
have  ventured  to  request  of  you ;  and  I  know  of  no  person  to  whom 
I  could  prefer  the  request  with  greater  certainty  that  it  will  be  kindly 
entertained.  I  am,  sir, 

"  With  sentiments  of  the  highest  respect, 

"  Your  obedient  and  humble  servant, 

"WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT." 

"  P.  S. — I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  accompany  this  letter  with  a 
copy  of  the  work." 

Mr.  Verplanck  wrote  to  Mr.  Irving  two  days  later,  com 
mending  the  project  of  his  friend  : 

"WASHINGTON,  December  31,  1831. 

"  DEAR  IRVING  :  My  friend  Bryant,  some  of  whose  poetry  I  know 
you  have  read  and  admired,  has  been  collecting,  and  is  about  to  pub 
lish,  a  volume  of  his  poems  in  New  York.  I  need  not  praise  them  to 
you.  A  letter  received  from  him  this  morning  informs  me  that  he 
has  sent  a  copy  of  them  to  Murray,  and  has  referred  him  to  you  as  to 
the  character  of  the  work.  I  believe  that  I  am  answerable  myself  for 
this  liberty,  though  he  asks  me  *  to  inform  him  (you)  of  the  liberty  he 
has  taken.'  His  object  is  an  honorable  publication  in  Europe,  though 
I  take  it  for  granted  that  profit  would  be  acceptable,  which  I  am  happy 
to  say  is  not  necessary.  You  will  receive  a  copy  of  the  work,  which  I 


266  THE  EDITOR  IN  CHIEF. 

have  not  yet  seen  in  the  present  shape ;  but  his  lines  '  To  the  Past,' 
'Lament  of  Romero,'  *  Summer  Wind,'  and  everything  painting  our 
scenery,  I  am  sure  can  be  eclipsed  by  nothing  of  our  own  day ;  the 
first,  I  have  thought,  by  nothing  in  the  language. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be, 

"Yours,  very  truly, 

"G.  C.  VERPLANCK." 

The  fortunes  of  the  book  in  England  we  shall  learn  in  the 
next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH. 

SUCCESS   OF  THE   POEMS. 
A.  D.    1832. 

EARLY  in  the  year  1832,  one  of  the  most  active  of  his  life, 
Mr.  Bryant  visited  Washington,  with  a  view,  as  I  conjecture 
from  hints  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Mr.  Verplanck,  to  establish 
a  permanent  correspondence  for  his  paper.  Up  to  that  time 
"our  regular  correspondent"  was  hardly  known,  and  editors 
depended  for  special  news  upon  their  relations  with  members 
of  Congress.  He  may  have  desired  also  to  make  the  acquaint 
ance  of  the  leading  men  of  the  day,  but,  knowing  his  later 
habit  of  avoiding  personal  contact  with  politicians,  it  is  not 
very  probable.  His  few  familiar  letters  to  his  wife,  giving  an 
account  of  what  he  saw  fifty  years  ago,  may  possess  an  interest 
for  some  of  the  thousands  of  travellers  who  are  familiar  with 
the  capital  in  these  days. 

"  JANUARY  23d :  I  wrote  you  yesterday,  giving  an  account  of  my 
arrival  here.  Since  that  time  I  have  called  on  Mr.  Verplanck.  He 
took  me  last  evening  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Woodbury,  Secretary  of 
War,  whom  we  found  in  the  midst  of  his  family  and  two  or  three 
friends — a  fine-looking  man,  with  a  prepossessing  face,  and  of  agree 
able  conversation.  After  a  stay  of  about  three  quarters  of  an  hour 
we  went  to  Mr.  McLane's,  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  where  we  found 
more  display.  Mr.  McLane  is  a  quiet  man,  of  small  stature  and  un 
assuming  manners.  His  wife,  the  mother  of  ten  children,  is  a  lady 
of  great  vivacity  and  a  good  deal  of  address,  full  of  conversation,  and 
talking  to  all  the  guests  with  great  fluency.  The  eldest  daughter  is 


268  SUCCESS  OF   THE  POEMS. 

a  young  lady,  as  I  should  judge,  of  sixteen.  There  were  several  la 
dies,  half  a  dozen  members  of  Congress,  and  Mr.  Poirisett,  late  Min 
ister  to  Mexico.  Among  the  ladies  was  a  daughter  of  the  ex-Em 
peror  Iturbide,  looking  much  as  you  might  suppose  Mrs.  Salazar*  to 
have  done  at  the  age  of  eighteen.  A  young  lady  of  the  name  of 
Christie  played  a  psalm-tune  or  two  on  the  piano,  accompanying  the 
music  with  the  words.  One  of  the  hymns  sung  was  Watts's  '  Sweet 
fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood.' 

"This  morning  I  went  to  visit  the  Capitol.  We  first  entered  the 
Representatives'  Hall,  a  spacious  building,  but  not  well  designed  for 
its  purposes;  speakers  experience  great  difficulty  in  making  them 
selves  heard  in  it.  Mr.  Verplanck  next  took  us  to  the  library,  an  ele 
gant  room,  and  literally  well  stocked  with  books.  We  then  went  to 
the  gallery  of  the  Senate  Chamber,  and  waited  for  the  Senators  to 
assemble.  The  Senate  Chamber  is  not  a  large  nor  handsome  apart 
ment,  compared  with  the  Representatives'  Hall.  We  saw  Harry 
Clay,  who  has  what  I  should  call  a  rather  ugly  face.  He  is  a  tall, 
thin,  narrow-shouldered,  light-complexioned  man,  with  a  long  nose, 
a  little  turned  up  at  the  end,  and  his  hair  combed  back  from  the 
edge  of  his  forehead.  We  saw,  also,  the  Vice-President,  Calhoun, 
who,  you  know,  is  the  presiding  officer  of  the  Senate.  He  is  a  man 
of  the  middle  size,  or  perhaps  a  little  over,  with  a  thick  shock  of  hair, 
dull  complexion,  and  of  an  anxious  expression  of  countenance.  He 
looks  as  if  the  fever  of  political  ambition  had  dried  up  all  the  juici 
ness  and  freshness  of  his  constitution.  He  despatched  the  business 
of  the  body  over  which  he  presided  with  decision  and  rapidity.  Af 
terward  we  went  to  the  gallery  of  the  other  House,  and  saw  Mr. 
Adams,  Mr.  Everett,  and  others,  and  heard  two  or  three  short 
speeches  on  trifling  questions.  Becoming  tired  of  these,  we  climbed 
to  the  top  of  the  great  dome  of  the  Capitol.  From  this  elevation  we 
descried  the  whole  city,  with  all  its  avenues  leading  in  various  direc 
tions  over  a  vast  extent  of  surrounding  country,  through  which  flow 
the  waters  of  the  Potomac.  This  afternoon  we  dined  with  Mr.  Cam- 
breling ;  Colonel  Drayton  and  Mr.  Powlett,  two  very  agreeable  men, 
were  of  the  party.  We  were  going  to  see  'Old  Hickory,'  but  it  was 

*  A  Spanish  lady  with  whom  Mr.  Bryant's  family  boarded  in  New  York  for  a 
time. 


WASHINGTON  IN  1832.  269 

too  late  before  we  were  ready,  as  the  old  gentleman  goes  to  bed  at 
nine  o'clock." 

"  JANUARY  25th :  Yesterday  I  called,  with  Mr.  Wetmore,  on  the 
Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  Livingston.  To-day  I  dined  with  Mr.  Ver- 
planck.  Several  members  of  both  Houses  were  present.  To-night 
I  am  going  to  see  the  President,  and  afterward  to  Commodore  Pat 
terson's  to  a  party." 

"JANUARY  29th:  When  I  wrote  you  on  Wednesday,  I  was  about 
to  call  at  the  President's.  We  went  with  Mr.  Cambreling  in  a  car 
riage  to  the  palace,  on  a  bitter  cold  night,  about  seven  o'clock  in  the 
evening.  We  were  told  by  the  servant  that  the  President  was  en 
gaged  up-stairs,  and  could  not  be  seen.  C.  proposed,  however,  that 
we  should  go  in  and  see  Major  Lewis  and  Major  Donaldson  (private 
secretaries),  which  we  did.  Soon  after,  I  observed  that  C.  was  out 
of  the  room,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  entered  with  the  President — a 
tall,  white-haired  old  gentleman,  not  very  much  like  the  common 
engravings  of  him.  He  received  us  very  politely,  and  after  about 
three  quarters  of  an  hour,  in  which  he  bore  his  part  very  agreeably  in 
the  conversation,  we  took  our  leave.  Mr.  Van  Buren  had  been  re 
jected  that  day  by  the  Senate,  and  when  that  subject  was  alluded  to 
the  '  lion  roared  '  a  little.  We  then  went  to  Commodore  Patterson's, 
where  there  was  a  party  made  up  of  various  materials — the  families 
of  heads  of  departments,  naval  officers,  members  of  Congress,  foreign 
ministers  and  attaches,  and  others.  Of  the  ladies,  some  were  pretty, 
but  the  prettiest  was  a  Mrs.  Constant,  from  New  York.  On  Thurs 
day  evening  Mr.  Verplanck  took  us  to  Governor  Cass's.  We  saw 
him  en  famille  with  his  two  daughters;  he  is,  as  you  may  have  heard, 
a  widower — a  grave-looking,  rather  dark-faced  man  of  fifty  years  of 
age.  On  Friday  evening  we  dined  with  Mr.  Livingston,  Secretary 
of  State.  The  entertainment  was,  I  think,  altogether  the  most  sump 
tuous  and  elegant  I  ever  witnessed.  There  were  no  guests  but  Ma 
jor  Lewis,  who  lives  with  the  President,  Dr.  Frienhau,  and  ourselves. 
We  afterward  went  to  a  party  at  Mr.  McLane's.  It  was  much  like  a 
New  York  party,  but  more  crowded.  Three  rooms  were  filled  with 
company,  and  in  two  of  them  there  was  dancing.  On  Saturday  we 
dined  with  Thomas  L.  Smith,  formerly  of  New  York,  now  Register 


2;o  SUCCESS  OF   THE  POEMS. 

of  the  Treasury.  Major  Barry,  the  Postmaster-General,  was  a  guest 
— a  man  of  slight  make,  and  apparently  the  wreck  of  a  man  of  talents. 
"  This  morning  we  took  a  walk  of  a  mile  and  a  half  to  George 
town,  which  is,  in  some  sort,  the  parent  of  Washington.  It  is  situ 
ated  close  on  the  shores  of  the  Potomac,  and  looks  like  an  old  town, 
compared  with  Washington.  The  country  about  it  seems  to  be  pleas 
ant  with  hills,  valleys,  and  woods.  The  shores  of  the  Potomac  above 
the  town  are  beautiful  and  varied.  We  crossed  the  river  on  the  ice 
to  what  was  formerly  a  part  of  Virginia,  but  is  now  included  in  the 
District  of  Columbia,  and  found  ourselves  in  a  wood  that  clothed  the 
slope  of  a  hill.  We  returned  in  a  driving  snow-storm.  ...  I  have 
heard  no  elaborate  speeches  yet  from  the  great  men,  but  I  have  heard 
a  specimen  of  the  manner  of  most  of  them  in  their  debates.  I  have 
heard  Hayne,  Webster,  Clay,  and  others  in  the  Senate,  and  Drayton, 
Adams,  Cambreling,  Archer,  and  Everett  in  the  House.  McDuffy 
I  have  not  heard." 

Soon  after  his  return,  Mr.  Bryant  was  gratified  by  the  re 
ceipt  of  a  letter  from  Washington  Irving,  giving  an  account  of 
his  discharge  of  the  duty  with  which  he  had  been  intrusted. 
It  was  dated  at  Byron's  former  home,  Newstead  Abbey,  Jan 
uary  26th : 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  I  feel  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  volume  you 
have  had  the  kindness  to  send  me,  and  am  delighted  to  have  in  my 
possession  a  collection  of  your  poems,  which,  separately,  I  have  so 
highly  admired.  It  will  give  me  the  greatest  pleasure  to  be  instru 
mental  in  bringing  before  the  British  public  a  volume  so  honorable  to 
our  national  literature.  When  I  return  to  London,  which  will  be  in 
the  course  of  a  few  days,  I  will  ascertain  whether  any  arrangement 
can  be  effected  by  which  some  pecuniary  advantage  can  be  secured  to 
you.  On  this  head  I  am  not  very  sanguine.  The  book  trade  is  at 
present  in  a  miserably  depressed  state  in  England,  and  the  publishers 
have  become  shy  and  parsimonious.  Besides,  they  will  not  be  dis 
posed  to  offer  you  anything  for  a  work  in  print  for  which  they  cannot 
secure  a  copyright.  I  am  sorry  you  sent  the  work  to  Murray,  who 
has  disappointed  me  grievously  in  respect  to  other  American  works 
intrusted  to  him;  and  who  has  acted  so  unjustly  in  recent  transac- 


LETTERS   TO  IRVING. 


271 


tions  with  myself  as  to  impede  my  own  literary  arrangements,  and 
oblige  me  to  look  round  for  some  other  publisher.*     I  shall,  however, 
write  to  him  about  your  work,  and  if  he  does  not  immediately  under 
take  it,  will  look  elsewhere  for  a  favorable  channel  of  publication. 
41  Believe  me,  my  dear  sir, 

"With  the  highest  consideration, 

"  Very  truly  yours, 

"WASHINGTON  IRVING." 

Murray's  answer  to  Irving,  dated  Albemarle  Street,  Febru 
ary  2d,  was  curt  and  to  the  point : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  received  Mr.  Bryant's  poems  yesterday,  and  I 
am  very  sorry  to  say  it  is  quite  out  of  Mr.  Murray's  power  to  do  any 
thing  for  him,  or  with  them.  I  send  the  volume  to  you  in  compliance 
with  your  request.  I  am,  dear  sir, 

"  Yours,  very  truly, 

"J.  MURRAY,  Jr." 

Mr.  Irving-,  nothing  daunted,  applied  to  other  publishers, 
and  at  length  succeeded  in  finding  one  in  Mr.  Andrews,  who 
consented  to  undertake  it  on  the  condition  that  a  line  in  the 
"  Song  of  Marion's  Men,"  which  reads — 

"The  British  foeman  trembles," 
should  be  changed  to 

"The  foeman  trembles  in  his  camp," 

to  avoid  wounding  British  susceptibilities.  The  book  was 
published  in  March,  1832,  with  a  dedication  to  Samuel  Rogers, 
which  spoke  in  the  warmest  terms  of  the  poems  contained 
in  it. 

*  The  descriptive  writings  of  Mr.  Bryant,'  said  Irving,  '  are  essen 
tially  American.  They  transport  us  into  the  depths  of  the  primeval 
forest,  to  the  shores  of  the  lonely  lake,  the  banks  of  the  wild,  nameless 
stream,  or  the  brow  of  the  rocky  upland,  rising  like  a  promontory  from 
amid  a  wide  ocean  of  foliage,  while  they  shed  around  us  the  glories 

*  A  temporary  misunderstanding,  which  was  subsequently  repaired. 


2/2 


SUCCESS  OF   THE  POEMS. 


of  a  climate  fierce  in  its  extremes,  but  splendid  in  all  its  vicissitudes. 
His  close  observation  of  the  phenomena  of  nature  and  the  graphic 
felicity  of  his  details  prevent  his  descriptions  from  ever  becoming 
general  and  commonplace,  while  he  has  the  gift  of  shedding  over 
them  a  pensive  grace  that  blends  them  all  into  harmony,  and  of  cloth 
ing  them  with  moral  associations  that  make  them  speak  to  the  heart. 
Neither,  I  am  convinced,  will  it  be  the  least  of  his  merits,  in  your  eyes, 
that  his  writings  are  imbued  with  the  independent  spirit  and  buoyant 
aspirations  incident  to  a  youthful,  a  free,  and  a  rising  country.' " 

Mr.  Rogers  accepted  the  dedication  in  these  friendly  words : 

"  MY  DEAR  IRVING  :  I  wish  I  could  thank  you  as  I  ought,  but  that 
is  impossible.  If  there  are  some  feelings  which  make  men  eloquent, 
mine  are  not  just  now  of  that  class.  To  have  been  mentioned  by  you 
with  regard  on  any  occasion,  I  should  always  have  considered  as  a 
good  fortune.  What,  then,  must  I  have  felt  when  I  read  what  you 
have  written.  If  I  was  a  vain  man  before,  I  am  now  in  danger  of  be 
coming  a  proud  one  ;  and  yet  I  can  truly  say  that  never  in  my  life 
was  I  made  more  conscious  of  my  unworthiness  than  you  have  made 
me  by  your  praise. 

"  Believe  me  to  be 

"  Your  very  grateful  and  very  sincere  friend, 

"  SAMUEL  ROGERS. 
"March  6,  1832." 

Mr.  Irving  announced  the  success  of  his  negotiations,  in  a 
letter  to  Mr.  Bryant  from  London,  March  6th : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  send  you  a  copy  of  the  second  edition  of  your 
work,  published  this  day.  You  will  perceive  that  I  have  taken  the 
liberty  of  putting  my  name  as  editor,  and  of  dedicating  the  work  to 
Mr.  Rogers.  Something  was  necessary  to  call  attention  at  this  mo 
ment  of  literary  languor  and  political  excitement  to  a  volume  of  poetry 
by  an  author  almost  unknown  to  the  British  public. 

"  I  have  taken  the  further  liberty  of  altering  two  or  three  words  in 
the  little  poem  of  *  Marion's  Men  ' — lest  they  might  startle  the  pride 
of  John  Bull  on  your  first  introduction  to  him. 

"  Mr.  Andrews,  the  bookseller,  has  promised  to  divide  with  you 
any  profits  that  may  arise  on  the  publication,  and  I  have  the  fullest 


IRVING' S  KINDNESS. 


273 


reliance  on  his  good  faith.  The  present  moment,  however,  is  far  from 
promising  to  literary  gains,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  the  re 
turns  are  but  trifling. 

"  Believe  me,  my  dear  sir, 

"  Very  respectfully  and  truly  yours, 

"WASHINGTON  IRVING. 
"\VM.  C.  BRYANT,  Esq." 

That  Mr.  Bryant  was  pleased  with  what  Irving  had  done 
for  him,  appears  by  this  note  to  Verplanck  of  April  2oth : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  Your  letter  seems  to  have  been  all  powerful  with 
Washington  Irving.  I  sent  him  a  copy  of  my  poems,  and  another  to 
Murray,  referring  him  to  Irving.  On  receiving  the  volume,  Irving 
wrote  me  a  letter,  saying  that  he  would  do  what  he  could  for  me,  but 
he  was  sorry  that  I  had  given  the  work  to  Murray,  who  had  occasioned 
him  a  great  deal  of  trouble  in  the  transactions  he  had  with  him  re 
specting  his  own  works.  A  few  weeks  after  receiving  the  letter  I 
received  another,  informing  me  that  Murray  declined  doing  anything 
with  the  work,  and  that  it  has  been  placed  in  the  hands  of  J.  Andrews, 
of  New  Bond  Street,  who  was  to  divide  with  me  any  profit  that  might 
arise  from  its  publication.  Yesterday  I  received  from  Mr.  Irving  a 
copy  of  the  London  edition,  with  his  name  on  the  title-page  as  editor, 
and  a  dedication  to  Rogers  prefixed  to  the  poems,  in  which  the  kind 
est  things  are  said  of  them.  This  was  doing  so  much  more  than  I 
had  any  reason  to  expect,  that  you  may  imagine  the  agreeable  surprise 
it  gave  me. 

"  Why  do  you  never  write  ?  The  '  Evening  Post '  is  in  an  eclipse 
since  you  have  withdrawn  the  light  of  your  countenance.  The  other 
papers  are  ahead  of  it  in  the  revelation  of  State  secrets  and  mysteries 
of  policy.  Yours  truly, 

"WM.  C.  BRYANT." 

As  soon  as  a  copy  of  the  English  republication  was  received 
in  this  country,  Mr.  Bryant  took  occasion  to  thank  Mr.  Irving 
for  his  services  as  follows : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  have  received  a  copy  of  the  London  edition  of 
my  poems  forwarded  by  you.  I  find  it  difficult  to  express  the  sense  I 

VOL.  I. — 19 


274  SUCCESS  OF   THE  POEMS. 

entertain  of  the  obligation  you  have  laid  me  under  by  doing  so  much 
more  for  me  in  this  matter  than  I  could  have  ventured,  under  any  cir 
cumstances,  to  expect.  Had  your  kindness  been  limited  to  procuring 
the  publication  of  the  work,  I  should  still  have  esteemed  the  favor 
worthy  of  my  particular  acknowledgment ;  but  by  giving  it  the  sanc 
tion  of  your  name,  and  presenting  it  to  the  British  public  with  a  rec 
ommendation  so  powerful  as  yours,  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  I 
feel  that  you  have  done  me  an  honor  in  the  eyes  of  my  countrymen, 
and  of  the  world. 

"  It  is  said  that  you  intend  shortly  to  visit  this  country.  Your 
return  to  your  native  land  will  be  welcomed  with  enthusiasm,  and  I 
shall  be  most  happy  to  make  my  acknowledgments  in  person. 

"  I  am,  sir,  very  sincerely  yours, 

"WM.  C.  BRYANT." 

Mr.  Irving  was  crossing  the  ocean  on  his  way  home  at  the 
date  of  the  foregoing  letter,  which  was  intended  to  reach  him 
in  Europe.  As  soon  as  Mr.  Bryant  heard  of  his  return,  he 
addressed  him  this  second  letter  of  acknowledgment,  which 
was  the  first  received,  from  Philadelphia,  May  22d : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  I  wrote  you  some  time  since  to  express  my 
thanks  for  the  kind  interest  you  have  taken  in  the  publication  of  my 
book  in  England,  but  perceiving  your  name  in  the  morning  paper 
among  those  of  the  passengers  of  the  last  Havre  packet,  I  conclude 
that  my  letter  has  not  reached  you.  I  take  this  opportunity,  there 
fore,  of  doing  what  my  absence  from  New  York  will  not  permit  me  to 
do  at  present  in  person — namely,  to  say  how  exceedingly  I  am  obliged 
to  you  for  having  done  so  much  more  for  my  book  than  I  was  enti 
tled,  under  any  circumstances,  to  expect.  I  was  not  vain  enough  to 
think  you  would  give  it  to  the  British  public  with  the  sanction  of 
your  name,  or  take  upon  yourself,  in  any  degree,  the  responsibility  of 
its  merit.  To  your  having  done  so  I  ascribe  the  favorable  reception 
— for  such  it  is,  so  far  as  I  am  able  to  judge — which  it  has  met  with 
in  Great  Britain,  as  well  as  much  of  the  kindness  with  which  it  is  re 
garded  in  this  country. 

"  I  am,  sir,  very  gratefully  and  truly  yours, 

"WM.  C.  BRYANT." 


THE  POEMS  AT  HOME.  275 

A  brief  interchange  of  sentiment  between  Mr.  Bryant  and 
Mr.  Dana,  from  which  I  make  a  few  extracts,  had  taken  place 
in  the  interval. 

"NEW  YORK,  APRIL  9th:  You  were  right  in  expecting  a  copy  of 
my  poems.  I  made  out  a  list  of  persons  to  whom  I  intended  to  pre 
sent  copies,  before  the  work  was  out,  and  I  put  down,  first,  the  names 
of  three  old  and  good  friends — yours  and  Channing's  and  Phillips's. 

*'.  .  .  The  review  in  the  'American  Quarterly'*  was  written,  it 
is  said,  by  Dr.  McHenry,  author  of  'The  Pleasures  of  Friendship, 
and  other  Poems ';  but  Walsh  has  said,  in  his  paper,  that  it  was  writ 
ten  at  his  particular  request,  and  adopted  by  him  as  soon  as  he  saw 
the  manuscript.  It  is  supposed,  also,  that  it  received  some  touches 
and  additions  from  his  pen.  Walsh  has  a  feeling  of  ill  nature  toward 
me,  and  was  doubtless  glad  of  an  occasion  to  gratify  it,  but  I  be 
lieve  that,  as  you  say,  the  article  will  do  me  no  harm. 

"  You  ask  about  the  sale  of  the  book.  Mr.  Bliss  tells  me  it  is  very 
good  for  poetry.  I  printed  a  thousand  copies,  and  more  than  half  of 
them  are  disposed  of.  As  to  the  price,  it  may  be  rather  high  at  $1.25, 
but  I  found  that,  with  what  I  should  give  away,  and  what  the  book 
sellers  would  take,  little  would  be  left  for  me  if  a  rather  high  price 
was  not  put  upon  it,  and  so  I  told  the  publisher  to  fix  it  at  a  dollar 
and  a  quarter.  If  the  whole  impression  sells,  it  will  bring  me  §300, 
perhaps  a  little  more.  I  hope  you  do  not  think  that  too  much.  I 
have  sent  the  volume  out  to  England,  and  Washington  Irving  has  had 
the  kindness  to  undertake  to  introduce  it  to  the  English  public.  .  .  . 
As  for  the  lucre  of  the  thing  on  either  side  of  the  waters,  an  experi 
ence  of  twenty-five  years — for  it  is  so  long  since  I  became  an  author — 
has  convinced  me  that  poetry  is  an  unprofitable  trade,  and  I  am  very 
glad  that  I  have  something  more  certain  to  depend  upon  for  a  living. 

"  I  wish  the  critics  of  poetry  in  this  country  understood  a  little 
more  of  the  laws  of  versification.  The  tune  of 

'  Rum  ti,  rum  ti,  rum  ti,  etc.,' 

is  easily  learned,  but    English  verse  not   only  admits   but   requires 
something  more.     He  who  has  got  no  further  than  rtim  ti  knows  no 

*  A  severe  and  almost  abusive  criticism. 


276  SUCCESS  OF   THE  POEMS. 

more  of  versification  than  he  who  has  merely  learned  the  Greek  alpha 
bet  knows  of  Greek.  Yet  people  undertake  to  talk  about  the  rules 
of  English  prosody  who  are  evidently  utterly  ignorant  of  the  usage, 
the  established  usage,  of  the  great  mass  of  English  poets  who  deserve 
the  name.  I  have  half  a  mind  to  write  a  book  in  order  to  set  our 
people  right  on  this  matter,  but  I  fear  nobody  would  read  it." 

"  APRIL  loth :  I  have  this  moment  received  the  '  American 
Monthly.'  If  you  see  Mr.  Channing,  give  him  my  best  thanks  for 
what  he  has  so  well  and  kindly  said  of  my  writings. 

"As  to  the  great  poem  or  the  lo?ig  poem  of  which  you  speak,  I  must 
turn  it  over  to  you  to  be  written.  One  who  has  achieved  such  a  tri 
umph  as  you  have  over  ill-natured  critics,  winning  a  reputation  in 
spite  of  them,  should  not  let  his  talent  sleep  the  moment  it  is  acknowl 
edged. 

"  I  am  going  to  remove  to  Hoboken  on  the  first  of  May,  where  I 
will  give  you  a  chamber.  But  do  not  come  till  I  get  back  from  the 
West,  for  to  the  West  I  am  going  in  the  course  of  about  four  weeks, 
with  no  other  purpose  in  the  world  than  to  look  at  it.  I  have  a  brother 
settled  in  Illinois,  so  I  shall  go  down  the  Ohio  till  it  mingles  with  the 
Mississippi,  and  up  the  Mississippi  till  it  meets  the  Illinois,  and  up 
the  Illinois  to  within  twenty  miles  of  Jacksonville,  where  my  brother 
lives. 

"  I  have  written  you  an  egotistical  sort  of  letter,  but  you  will  ex 
cuse  me  in  consequence  of  having  lately  published  a  book.  My  re 
gards  to  all  my  friends  in  Cambridge.  W.  C.  B." 

Mr.  Dana's  reply  was  from  Cambridge,  April  2oth : 

"...  I  wish  that  your  half  a  mind  to  write  a  book  on  English 
versification  might  become  an  entire  one.  Nor  am  I  quite  so  sure  that 
it  would  not  be  read.  Let  me  see  :  there  are  all  the  manufacturers 
of  verses  for  monthly  magazines,  daily  papers,  and  albums — no  small 
number.  Then  you  have  only  to  call  it  '  The  Verse  Class-Book ;  or, 
Prosody  made  Easy,'  and  have  it  reviewed  in  '  The  American  Journal 
of  Education,'  and  recommended  to  all  academies  and  boarding- 
schools,  and  your  fortune  is  made  at  once.  But,  seriously  (if  you, 
with  your  half  mind,  were  half  serious),  I  should  be  glad  to  see  such 


DANA   ON   VERSIFICATION. 

a  work  as  you  would  write,  illustrating  your  principles  with  such  se 
lections  as  you  would  make  from  our  master  poets  and  from  the 
Greeks  and  Latins,  where  you  wished  to  point  differences  or  resem 
blances.  We  have  no  work  deserving  the  name  of  a  treatise  on  Eng 
lish  prosody.  Every  departure  from  the  ordinary  rule  is  set  down  to 
neglect,  or  ignorance,  or  laziness;  for  instance,  the  trisyllable — with 
how  much  beauty  you  have  used  it  (a  little  too  frequently,  perhaps, 
for  what  is  peculiar) !  How  exquisite  it  is  in  Shakespeare,  and  how 
fine  in  Milton,  I  need  not  say.  To  me,  sometimes,  in  an  impassioned 
line,  when  Milton  makes  a  break,  the  trochee  following  the  iambus 
gives  an  abrupt,  startling  energy  to  the  passage,  which  it  would  hardly 
have  had  if  he  had  adhered  to  the  common  rule.  And  I  believe  that, 
in  many  cases,  though  he  may  not  have  so  written  it  premeditatedly, 
he  retained  it  designedly. 

"  To  think  of  the  infinite  variety  of  sound  that  one  with  a  bold 
mind  and  a  harmonious  ear  may  pour  forth !  It  seems  to  me  that 
versification  has  never  been  treated  upon  philosophically  enough, 
merely  as  the  utterance  of  thought  and  feeling,  and  taking  the  char 
acter  and  undergoing  all  the  changes  of  these.  Sensible  remarks,  and 
plain  moral  reflections  in  verse,  for  instance,  would  naturally  fall  into 
a  Pope-like  measure.  Fiery,  impassioned  thought  and  feeling  take 
the  abrupt  and  somewhat  harsh  one;  feelings  and  thoughts  more 
lofty  and  imaginative  would  as  naturally  swell  into  a  full  and  rich  har 
mony.  Pope's  verse,  for  instance,  was  the  result,  I  should  say,  not  of 
system,  but  of  the  general  cast  of  his  thoughts  and  feelings.  He  may 
have  made  it  into  a  system,  but  that  was  after-work.  I  am  so  sensible 
of  my  own  defects  in  versification  that  it  is  unpleasant  to  me  to  speak 
of  myself  in  relation  to  the  subject,  or  I  would  say  that  I  have  thought 
that,  without  the  slightest  premeditation,  my  own  movement  in  verse 
was,  in  its  poor  degree,  frequently  subject  to  all  these  changes  from 
within.  I  know  it  may  be  said  that  versification  should  run  through 
all  the  changes  without  losing  either  its  melody  or  harmony;  nor 
have  I  the  least  wish  to  accommodate  the  laws  of  verse  to  my  heinous 
transgressions.  I  love  the  melody  and  harmony  of  others'  tongues, 
though  I  have  none  in  my  own.  I  am  pleased  with  sounds  I  cannot 
myself  give  forth.  I  began  too  late,  and  am  too  impatient,  also,  of  the 
labor,  or  rather  am  not  enough  skilled  to  preserve  all  the  meaning  and 
strength,  and  give  harmony  too.  Write  such  a  work  as  I  know  you 


278  SUCCESS  OF   THE  POEMS. 

can  write,  and  I  promise  you  I  will  be  your  diligent  pupil.  ...  I 
visited  New  Bedford  and  Newport.  While  in  Newport  I  walked  at 
the  rate  of  eight  and  ten  miles  a  day.  The  sea  and  I  held  stupendous 
dialogues  !  How  spiritual  the  sea  is ! — how  it  seems  to  swallow  one 
up  in  the  Infinite !  How  bleak  it  is  of  a  rainy  day,  and  how  awfully 
white  the  curl  of  its  breakers  in  contrast !  .  .  . 

"  Channing  was  pleased  with  your  remembrance  of  him  in  yours 
to  me,  and  sends  his  most  sincere  regards.  I  learn  by  to-day's  paper 
that  the  English  edition  of  your  poems  has  made  its  appearance,  with 
a  dedication  to  Rogers,  by  Irving.  Samuel  Rogers  !  never  mind,  dear 
sir,  it  will  help  to  favor.  If  the  English  will  but  give  you  fair  play, 
how  they  will  bow  and  scrape  to  you  at  home !  and,  then,  how  silly 
Walsh  will  look !  Let  him  go ;  revenge  is  bad  for  both  head  and 
heart.  R.  H.  D." 

The  reception  of  his  book  in  England  was,  on  the  whole, 
favorable — very  much  so,  considering  what  the  tone  of  British 
criticism  had  been  up  to  this  time ;  *  but  the  praise  or  blame 
was  alike  superficial.  The  critics  spoke  of  qualities  that  any 
reader  might  see  at  a  glance,  without  discerning  that  peculiar 
genius  which  placed  the  writer  among  the  great  meditative 
poets  of  all  time.  The  "  Foreign  Quarterly  Review,"  f  which 
commended  his  descriptive  fidelity,  his  quiet  beauty  of  style  and 
moral  purity,  yet  complained  "  of  a'want  of  finish,  such  as  we 
find  in  Gray,  Goldsmith,  Moore,  and  Campbell."  "  Although 
Mr.  Bryant,"  the  critic  goes  on  to  say,  "  occasionally  recalls 


*  A  few  years  before,  the  "  Retrospective  Review  "  (a)  remarked  :  "  In  respect  to 
the  poetry  of  our  friends,  the  Americans,  little  can  be  said  at  present.  Their  verses 
are  too  like  ours  to  call  for  particular  mention.  Their  principal  writers  of  verse  are 
Mr.  Barlow,  Mr.  Paulding,  Mr.  Linn,  Mr.  Pierrepont,  Maxwell  Eastburn,  Dabney, 
Mr.  Allston,  who  has  contrived  to  reconcile  the  two  muses  of  poetry  and  painting, 
and,  finally,  the  author  of  '  Fanny '  and  William  Cullen  Bryant.  The  author  of 
'  Fanny '  takes  '  Beppo '  for  his  model,  and  Mr.  Bryant,  who  certainly  stands  first  in 
the  American  Parnassus,  copies  the  style  of  Lord  Byron,  in  his  Spenserian  stanzas, 
and  in  his  blank  verse  reminds  us  at  once  both  of  Wordsworth  and  Cowper." 

f  February,  1832. 

(a)  Vol.  ix,  p.  311,  1824. 


THE  POEMS  IN  ENGLAND.  279 

Cowper,  Wordsworth,  and  Rogers,"  he  is  "  by  no  means  a 
copyist,"  "  writing  in  the  same  spirit,  it  is  true,  but  without 
descending  into  imitation."  "  His  sketches  of  Nature  surpass 
those  of  Thompson,  and  '  The  Ages,'  written  in  the  manner  of 
*  Childe  Harold,'  though  inferior  to  it  in  brilliancy  and  power, 
is  superior  to  it  in  thought  and  sentiment."  The  loudest  ap 
plause  came  from  John  Wilson,  the  Christopher  North  of 
"  Blackwood,"  then  a  stalwart  figure  in  the  literary  world, 
who,  himself  a  poet  and  not  unwilling  to  pick  a  brother  to 
pieces,  as  his  dissection  of  Tennyson  shortly  after  shows,  was 
warm,  and  even  enthusiastic.*  "  The  '  Song  of  Pitcairn's  Isl 
and,'  "  he  said,  "  is  the  kind  of  love  poetry  in  which  we  de 
light  "  ;  the  "  Hunter's  Serenade  "  he  pronounced  "  a  sweet, 
lovely  lay  " ;  and  the  "  Marion's  Men  "  "  a  spirit-stirring,  beauti 
ful  ballad,  instinct  with  the  grace  of  Campbell  and  the  vigor 
of  Allan  Cunningham."  But  the  chief  charm  of  the  poet's 
genius  he  found  to  consist  in  "  a  tender  pensiveness,  a  moral 
melancholy,  breathing  over  all  his  contemplations,  dreams,  and 
reveries,  even  such  as  in  the  main  are  glad,  and  giving  assur 
ance  of  a  pure  spirit,  benevolent  to  all  living  creatures,  and 
habitually  pious  in  the  felt  omnipresence  of  the  Creator."  The 
inspiration  of  many  of  his  poems  is  traced  to  "a  profound 
sense  of  the  sanctity  of  the  affections.  That  love  which  is  the 
support  and  the  solace  of  the  heart  in  all  the  duties  and  dis 
tresses  of  this  life  is  sometimes  painted  by  Mr.  Bryant  in  its 
purest  form  and  brightest  colors,  as  it  beautifies  and  blesses 
the  solitary  wilderness.  The  delight  that  has  filled  his  own 
being,  from  the  faces  of  his  own  family,  he  transfuses  into  the 
hearts  of  the  creatures  of  his  imagination,  as  they  wander 
through  the  woods,  or  sit  singing  in  front  of  their  forest  bow 
ers."  Though  he  disagreed  with  Irving,  thinking  Bryant  less 
"  American  "  than  Cooper,  he  quoted  admiringly  the  poems 
descriptive  of  the  landscape  of  the  New  World,  and  gave  long 

*  "  Blackwood's  Magazine,"  April,  1832.     Mr.  Bryant,  in  his  various  visits  to 
England,  tried  to  see  Wilson,  but  was  not,  I  believe,  on  any  occasion  successful. 


280  SUCCESS  OF   THE  POEMS. 

passages  from  others,  which  "  could  only  have  emanated  from 
a  genius  of  very  high  order." 

The  trip  to  Illinois,  alluded  to  in  a  foregoing  letter,  was 
undertaken  by  Mr.  Bryant  in  order  that  he  might  see  his 
brothers,  who  were  among  the  earliest  settlers  of  that  as  yet 
unsettled  State.  After  the  death  of  their  father,  the  children 
of  the  family  were  left  pretty  much  to  shift  for  themselves. 
Austin,  the  elder,  took  charge  of  the  homestead,  where  the 
mother  and  daughters  remained ;  Cyrus,  after  trying  to  be  a 
merchant  in  South  Carolina,  taught  the  natural  sciences  at  Mr. 
Bancroft's  school  in  Northampton  ;  Arthur  was  for  a  while  at 
West  Point,  but  abandoned  it  because  of  ill  health,  and  went 
to  the  West  as  a  farmer  (1830);  John  followed  him  the  next 
year,  and  sooner  or  later  the  whole  family  were  gathered  at 
Princeton,  Illinois.  They  carried  out  the  pioneer  traditions  of 
their  grandparents  and  parents,  and  took  up  their  abode  in 
the  wilderness,  which  they 'not  only  helped  to  tame,  but  where 
they  were  active  in  moulding  its  raw  civilization  into  that  of  a 
highly  advanced  and  powerful  community.  During  these 
wanderings  and  trials  William  was  in  correspondence  with 
one  or  the  other  of  them,  endeavoring  to  further  their  interests 
as  he  could,  and  not  forgetting  their  mental  improvement,  as 
these  extracts  from  letters  to  brother  John,  himself  a  poet  of 
no  mean  pretensions,  will  show  : 

"  NEW  YORK,  NOVEMBER  21,  1831  :  I  am  glad  that  you  are  so  well 
pleased  with  the  country,  considering  that  you  have  become,  as  I 
suppose  is  the  case,  a  landed  proprietor ;  and  I  have  no  doubt,  from 
your  account,  that,  if  you  should  choose  to  leave  the  place,  you  will  be 
able  to  sell  again  at  an  advanced  price. 

"As  for  yourself,  I  hope  you  are  not  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  marry. 
When  you  do,  I  hope  you  will  take  the  step  with  wisdom  and  reflec 
tion.  Marry  a  person  who  has  a  good  mother,  who  is  of  a  good  fam 
ily  that  do  not  meddle  with  the  concerns  of  their  neighbors,  and  who, 
along  with  a  proper  degree  of  industry  and  economy,  possesses  a  love 
of  reading  and  a  desire  of  knowledge.  A  mere  pot-wrestler  will  not 
do  for  you.  You  have  tastes  for  study  and  elegance,  and  must  not 


ADVICE  ON  POETRY.  28l 

link  yourself  to  one  who  has  no  sympathies  for  you  in  your  admiration 
for  what  is  excellent  in  literature.  A  woman,  too,  whose  religious 
notions  are  fanatical  would  be  a  plague  to  you.  By  the  way,  I  sup 
pose  you  have  heard  of  the  great  religious  excitement  which  prevailed 
last  winter  and  spring  in  the  western  part  of  Massachusetts.  Four- 
days'  meetings,  an  expedient  for  the  spread  of  fanaticism  borrowed 
from  the  Methodists,  were  held  everywhere,  and  when  I  visited  Cum- 
mington,  although  the  rage  was  somewhat  cooled  by  the  necessity  the 
farmers  found  of  attending  to  their  business,  prayer-meetings  were  held 
at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  at  the  village,  and  meetings  in  the  day 
time  twice  a  week.  People  would  trot  about  after  prayer-meetings  for 
the  sake  of  listening  to  unprofitable  declamations  about  the  meta 
physics  of  the  Calvinistic  school,  who  would  never  stir  a  step  to  fur 
nish  their  minds  with  any  useful  knowledge.  .  .  . 

"  I  have  seen  several  poetical  things  by  you,  some  of  them  very 
well,  in  the  Jacksonville  papers.  I  must  repeat,  however,  the  injunc 
tion  to  study  vigor  and  condensation  in  your  language  and  originality 
in  your  ideas.  Your  blank  verse  might  also  be  improved  by  greater 
variety  in  the  pauses.  Affairs  go  on  prosperously  with  me.  The 
'  Evening  Post*  has  increased  in  subscribers  within  the  last  year,  and 
I  am  in  hopes  by  making  it  better  to  obtain  still  more.  I  shall  want 
them  to  pay  the  new  debt  I  have  contracted.  I  intend  to  visit  Wash 
ington  this  winter  to  look  at  the  old  General  and  his  Cabinet.  It  ap 
pears  that  the  unlucky,  I  was  going  to  say,  but  revoke  the  word — it 
appears  that  the  late  dissolution  of  his  Cabinet  has,  instead  of  dimin 
ishing  his  popularity,  made  the  old  gentleman  more  popular  than 
ever.  At  the  next  election  he  will  *  walk  over  the  course.'  " 

"NEW  YORK,  FEBRUARY  19,  1832  :  I  have  received  several  of  your 
poetical  compositions  published  in  the  '  Illinois  Herald.'  The  lines 
on  leaving  the  place  of  your  nativity  are  very  well.  Those  addressed 
to  Kate  are  flowing  and  easy,  but  with  some  weak  passages.  The 
poem  on  winter  also  is  unequal.  The  New  Year's  address  was,  I 
suppose,  like  most  things  of  the  kind,  written  in  haste.  Indeed,  it  is 
a  pity  to  spend  much  time  on  what  is  so  soon  laid  by  and  utterly  for 
gotten,  or  what  cannot  possibly  interest  the  reader  afterward.  As  to 
the  politics  of  the  address,  I  think  that,  if  they  were  not  your  own,  I 
should  not  have  put  them  in  verse.  I  saw  some  lines  by  you  to  the 


282  SUCCESS  OF   THE  POEMS. 

skylark.  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  bird?  Let  me  counsel  you  to 
draw  your  images,  in  describing  Nature,  from  what  you  observe  around 
you,  unless  you  are  professedly  composing  a  description  of  some  for 
eign  country,  when,  of  course,  you  will  learn  what  you  can  from  books. 
The  skylark  is  an  English  bird,  and  an  American  who  has  never  vis 
ited  Europe  has  no  right  to  be  in  raptures  about  it.  Of  course,  your 
present  occupation  necessarily  engrosses  the  greater  part  of  your  time, 
and  leaves  you  but  little  leisure  for  writing  verses.  What  you  write, 
however,  you  should  not  write  lazily,  but  compose  with  excitement 
and  finish  with  care,  suffering  nothing  to  go  out  of  your  hands  until 
you  are  satisfied  with  it.  I  have  visited  Washington,  where  I  passed 
ten  days.  I  saw  the  President,  who  appears  to  be  a  sensible  old  gen 
tleman,  of  agreeable  manners,  and  the  four  Secretaries  who  compose 
a  very  able  Cabinet — the  most  so  that  we  have  had  since  the  days  of 
Washington.  Of  fashionable  society  I  saw  something.  The  only  pe 
culiarity  I  observed  about  it  was  the  early  hours  that  are  kept — the 
balls  beginning  at  eight  and  breaking  up  at  eleven,  and  the  refresh 
ments  being  all  light,  and  no  supper.  I  heard  a  few  words  from  most 
of  the  distinguished  men  in  Congress,  but  no  speeches  of  length  or 
importance.  If  I  come,  I  cannot  set  out  until  the  middle  of  May.  I 
shall  move  the  ist  of  May,  I  think,  to  Hoboken,  and  the  semi-annual 
dividend  of  the  profits  of  the  '  Evening  Post '  is  made  on  the  i5th  of 
May.  My  stay  in  Illinois  will  be  short.  The  family  at  Cummington 
talk  of  going  to  Illinois  next  fall  if  the  farm  can  be  sold.  .  .  . 

"I  send  you,  by  Mr.  Coddington,  a  copy  of  my  poems,  and  I  have 
also  given  him  one,  according  to  your  request.  The  book  sells,  I  be 
lieve,  tolerably  well — that  is,  for  poetry,  which  in  this  country  is  al 
ways  of  slim  sale.  I  do  not  expect,  however,  to  make  much  by  it.  If 
it  brings  me  two  hundred  or  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  I  shall 
think  myself  doing  pretty  well.  Poetry,  at  present,  is  a  mere  drug, 
both  in  this  country  and  in  England.  Since  Byron's  poetry,  I  am 
told  that  nothing  sells.  I  have,  however,  sent  my  book  to  England  to 
try  its  luck,  offering  it  for  what  I  can  get,  and  if  I  can  get  nothing, 
consenting  that  it  shall  be  republished  for  nothing,  provided  it  be 
done  respectably." 

The  journey  to  Illinois  was  no  easy  one  in  those  days,  when 
the  Indians  were  still  abroad,  and  the  modes  of  conveyance  of 


ILLINOIS  IN  1832.  283 

the  rudest  kind.  It  took  Mr.  Bryant  a  fortnight  to  accom 
plish  it,  going-  across  the  Alleghanies  by  stage,  down  the 
Ohio  River  and  up  the  Mississippi  to  St.  Louis  by  steam 
boat,  and  then  over  the  prairies  by  wagon  or  on  horseback. 
One  incident  is  curious  enough  to  be  recorded.  While  alone 
in  these  "  gardens  of  the  desert "  he  encountered  a  com 
pany  of  raw  Illinois  volunteers,  who  were  going  forward  to 
take  part  in  the  Black  Hawk  Indian  War.  They  were  led 
by  a  tall,  awkward,  uncouth  lad,  whose  appearance  particu 
larly  attracted  Mr.  Bryant's  attention,  and  whose  conver 
sation  delighted  him  by  its  raciness  and  originality,  garnished 
as  it  probably  was  by  not  a  few  rough  frontier  jokes.  He 
learned,  many  years  afterward,  from  a  person  who  had  been 
one  of  the  troop,  that  this  captain  of  theirs  was  named  Abra 
ham  Lincoln. 

Mr.  Bryant  found  his  brothers  in  possession  of  lordly  es 
tates  in  land,  but  at  a  hard  grip  with  poverty.  They  were 
clearing  the  soil,  planting  trees,  and  raising  rough  log  homes. 
He  remained  with  them  a  week,  making  excursions  into  the 
neighboring  wilds,  and  then  returned,  by  way  of  Louisville, 
through  Kentucky,  Virginia,  and  Maryland,  whence,  hearing 
that  cholera  was  in  New  York,  he  quickened  his  steps.  He 
found  his  family  already  removed  to  a  pretty  cottage  near  the 
home  of  the  Sands's,  at  Hoboken,  and  snugly  domiciled  just  in 
time  to  escape  the  pestilence.  It  had  broken  out  with  great 
fury,  and,  being  a  new  and  almost  unknown  scourge,  the  terror 
created  can  scarcely  be  imagined  at  this  day.  I  remember 
passing  through  New  York  at  the  time,  on  my  way  from 
Princeton  College,  which  had  been  dismissed  in  apprehension 
of  the  disease,  and  it  seemed  to  me  like  a  town  suffering  siege. 
The  streets  were  deserted,  many  shops  and  houses  were  closed, 
every  face  wore  an  expression  of  despondency  and  fear,  and 
almost  the  only  noises  heard  in  the  streets  were  the  rattle  of 
the  death-carts  as  they  carried  off  the  dead.  All  that  fearful 
summer  our  editor  was  compelled  to  remain  at  his  post,  en 
deavoring  to  calm  the  general  panic  and  enliven  the  general 


284  SUCCESS  OF  THE  POEMS. 

gloom  by  such  cheerful  and  assuring  accounts  as  the  circum 
stance  might  warrant. 

In  the  autumn  Mr.  Dana  and  Mr.  Bryant  exchanged  words 
that  referred  to  these  subjects.  Mr.  Dana  began  October  3d, 
from  Newport,  whither  he  had  gone  on  account  of  ill-health : 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  Your  kind  purpose  in  inviting  me  to  pass  part  of 
the  warm  weather  with  you  at  Hoboken,  upon  your  return  from  the 
West,  was,  like  much  else,  brought  to  nothing  by  that  power  before 
which  great  and  small  gave  way — the  cholera.  By  this  time  I  suppose 
your  city  is  as  gay  as  ever,  and  in  full  dance  over  the  graves  of  the 
thousands  who  have  gone  down  to  death  since  that  plague  entered  it. 
As  I  never  dance,  I  shall  not  visit  you  for  that  purpose  now ;  and,  for 
the  sake  of  moralizing,  why,  there  is  enough  at  home  and  in  my  own 
bosom  for  that.  I  do  hope,  however,  that  you  and  I  shall  meet  by 
another  summer.  Why  may  we  not  meet  on  this  fair  island  ?  unless 
you  fear  that  your  poetic  taunts  may  rise  up  against  you.* 

"  My  dear  sir,  what  are  you  doing  in  the  poetics  ?  Your  name  is 
up,  and  you  must  not  follow  the  adage  and  lie  abed.  It  is  a  little 
amusing  to  see  how,  with  all  our  patriotism,  our  men  of  real  genius 
must  send  abroad  for  their  good  names.  Look  at  the  miserable  no 
tices  of  your  poems  at  home,  and  then  consider  how  you  stand  in 
England.  I  read  a  review  of  you  in  'Blackwood.'  I  was  at  points 
with  the  reviewer  in  some  things ;  but,  upon  the  whole,  thought  there 
was  a  good  deal  of  fair  commendation.  The  long  talk  about  the  want 
of  description  peculiar  to  our  scenery  and  customs  was  owing  in  a 
measure  to  Irving's  sweeping  remark.  In  the  few  things  in  which  it 
has  been  your  object  to  describe  what  is  peculiar  to  our  country,  you 
have  done  it;  but  these  do  not  justify  Irving's  unqualified  assertion. 
Why  must  everything  be  daubed  over  with  our  treacle  ?  (I  don't 
mean  your  maple  sugar.)  I  perfectly  nauseate  it.  By-the-by,  with  all 
my  respect  for  Mr.  Irving,  I  must  be  allowed  to  say  that  his  dedica 
tion  to  Rogers  showed  much  effort  to  little  effect,  and  was  withal  very 
un-English.  I  will  not  say  it  was  unworthy  the  dedicates,  but  it  was 
unworthy  both  the  dedica/^  and  the  dedica£?r.  When  you  write 

*  This  alludes  to  Mr.  Bryant's  fling  at  the  island  in  his  "  Meditation  on  Rhode 
Island  Coal." 


THE  CHOLERA  IN  NEW   YORK.  285 

(will  you  ?),  let  me  know  in  what  English  periodicals  besides  '  Black- 
wood  '  you  have  been  noticed.  I  never  read  our  reviews  unless,  for 
instance,  you  are  concerned,  and  seldom  see  them." 

Mr.  Bryant's  reply  was  from  New  York,  October  8th,  as 
follows : 

"Mv  DEAR  SIR:  .  .  .  You  are  right;  we  have  had  a  fearful  time 
in  New  York,  the  pestilence  striking  down  its  victims  on  the  right 
hand  and  the  left,  often  at  noonday,  but  mostly  in  darkness,  for  of 
the  thousands  who  had  the  disorder  three  quarters  were  attacked  at 
the  dead  of  night.  I  have  been  here  from  the  i2th  of  July,  when  I 
returned  from  the  westward,  till  the  present  time,  coming  every  morn 
ing  from  Hoboken  to  attend  to  my  daily  occupation,  every  morning 
witnessing  the  same  melancholy  spectacle  of  deserted  and  silent  streets 
and  forsaken  dwellings,  and  every  day  looking  over  and  sending  out 
to  the  world  the  list  of  the  sick  and  dead.  My  own  health  and  that 
of  my  wife  and  youngest  child  in  the  mean  time  have  been  bad,  with 
a  feeling  in  the  stomach  like  that  produced  by  taking  lead  or  some 
other  mineral  poison.  Since  the  second  week  in  September  the  state 
of  things  has  changed,  and  my  own  health  was  never  better  than  it  is 
at  this  moment. 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  conveying  to  me  the  proposal  of 
the  booksellers — I  forget  their  names — to  print  a  second  edition  of 
my  book.  There  are,  I  believe,  about  a  hundred  copies  of  the  first 
on  hand,  and  I  must  see  them  fairly  off  before  I  print  again.  Bliss 
sells  as  slow  as  Old  Rapid  in  the  play  sleeps.  Any  other  bookseller 
would  have  got  off  the  whole  before  this  time;  but  he  is  a  good  creat 
ure,  and  I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart  to  refuse  his  instances  to  be 
permitted  to  publish  the  book.  What  you  say  of  '  Blackwood's  '  ani 
madversions  about  scenery,  etc.,  is  just.  I  am  a  little  mortified  that 
the  transatlantic  critics  will  not  look  at  my  '  Past,'  which  I  think  my 
best  thing.  You  ask  who  has  noticed  me  abroad.  *  Blackwood '  you 
have  seen.  My  book  was  made  the  subject  of  a  rather  extravagant 
but  brief  notice  in  Campbell's  '  Metropolitan.'  They  say  it  is  also 
noticed  at  some  length  in  the  last  number  of  '  The  Foreign  Quarterly 
Review,'  which  I  have  not  seen.  'The  Athenaeum,'  *  The  Literary 
Gazette,'  and  some  of  the  other  weekly  literary  journals — no  great  au- 


286  SUCCESS  OF  THE  POEMS. 

thorities  in  matters  of  criticism — spoke  of  the  work  when  it  first  ap 
peared,  and  made  large  extracts.  I  read  somewhere  that  it  was  re 
viewed  in  *  The  Penny  Magazine,'  which,  though  less  than  a  l  two 
penny  '  affair  (pronounced  *  tuppeny  '),  comes  out  under  the  auspices  of 
the  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Knowledge,  and  has  a  circulation  of,  I 
believe,  fifteen  thousand  copies. 

"  I  have  seen  the  great  West,  where  I  ate  corn  bread  and  hominy, 
slept  in  log  houses,  with  twenty  men,  women,  and  children  in  the 
same  room.  ...  At  Jacksonville,  where  my  two  brothers  live,  I  got 
on  a  horse,  and  travelled  about  a  hundred  miles  to  the  northward  over 
the  immense  prairies,  with  scattered  settlements,  on  the  edges  of  the 
groves.  These  prairies,  of  a  soft,  fertile  garden  soil,  and  a  smooth, 
undulating  surface,  on  which  you  may  put  a  horse  to  full  speed,  cov 
ered  with  high,  thinly  growing  grass,  full  of  weeds  and  gaudy  flowers, 
and  destitute  of  bushes  or  trees,  perpetually  brought  to  my  mind  the 
idea  of  their  having  been  once  cultivated.  They  looked  to  me  like 
the  fields  of  a  race  which  had  passed  away,  whose  enclosures  and 
habitations  had  decayed,  but  on  whose  vast  and  rich  plains,  smoothed 
and  levelled  by  tillage,  the  forest  had  not  yet  encroached.*  .  .  . 

"  P.  S. — Dr.  Anderson,  who  has  just  called,  tells  me  that  he  has  no 
doubt  that  the  notice  of  my  poems  in  '  The  Foreign  Quarterly '  was 
written  in  this  country.  The  critic's  notion  of  prosody  is  the  same 
as  Dr.  McHenry's,  etc." 

Before  setting  out  for  Illinois,  Mr.  Bryant  was  employed 
on  a  volume  of  Tales  which  he  had  projected,  which  was  to 
be  called  "  The  Sextad,"  from  the  number  of  authors  engaged 
in  it,  but,  Verplanck  having  backed  out,  it  took  the  name  of 
11  Tales  of  the  Glauber  Spa."  It  was  published  soon  after  his 
return. f  His  own  share  in  it,  besides  the  editorship,  was  con 
fined  to  two  stories—"  Medfield  "  and  "  The  Skeleton's  Cave  " 
— his  friends,  Miss  Sedgwick,  and  Messrs.  Sands,  Leggett,  and 

*  These  thoughts  were  embodied  in  the  poem  on  the  "  Prairies,"  which  Mr.  Bry 
ant  wrote  while  his  mind  was  full  of  the  subject,  and  contributed  to  the  "  Knicker 
bocker  Magazine." 

f  "  Tales  of  the  Glauber  Spa."  By  several  American  authors.  2  vols.  New 
York:  J.  &J.  Harper,  1832. 


"TALES  OF   THE  GLAUBER  SPA."  287 

Paulding,  contributing  the  rest.  It  was  intended  to  be  anony 
mous.  "  But  the  newspapers,"  said  the  "  Evening  Post,"  "  those 
inveterate  enemies  to  secrecy,  have  undertaken  to  point  out  the 
several  partners  in  the  joint  stock.  To  Miss  Sedgwick  they 
ascribe  one  story,  '  Le  Bossu,'  and,  whether  from  deference  to 
her  as  a  lady,  or  whether  from  their  candid  opinion  of  her  in 
trinsic  merits  as  a  writer,  they  have  allotted  to  her  the  best  tale 
in  the  collection.  To  Mr.  Paulding  they  ascribe  two  stories, 
'  Childe  Roeloff's  Pilgrimage  '  and  '  Selim  ' ;  to  Mr.  Sands  two, 
'  Mr.  Green '  and  '  Boyuca ' ;  and  the  remaining  three  tales 
they  apportion  between  ourselves  "  (Bryant  and  Leggett).  It 
then  proceeds : 

"  Whether  this  ascription  is  correct  or  not  so  far  as  the  others  are 
concerned,  is  not  for  us  to  say  ;  but,  for  ourselves,  we  may  and  do 
solemnly  assert  that  we  were  never  at  Glauber  Spa  in  our  lives  ;  that 
we  never  had  anything  to  do  with  Sharon  Clapp,  or  his  son  Eli,  or 
his  wife,  or  his  daughters  ;  that  we  never  tasted  of  either  'oxhides  ' 
or  'gin '  from  the  fountain  at  Sheep's  Neck ;  and,  finally,  that  we  be 
lieve  Mr.  Clapp's  story  is  a  piece  of  sheer  fiction,  manufactured  out  of 
whole  cloth,  and  with  no  other  object  than  'to  do  '  those  respectable 
gentlemen,  Mr.  John  and  Mr.  James  Harper,  out  of  a  portion  of  their 
well-gotten  gains." 

But  it  was  not  a  propitious  time  for  tale-writing.  Day  by 
day  the  politics  of  the  nation  was  growing  hotter.  The  ques 
tion  was  no  longer  one  of  party  supremacy,  but  of  national 
existence.  Legislation  for  special  interests  was  bringing  forth 
its  fruits.  The  manufacturers,  in  their  zeal  to  secure  an  exclu 
sive  home  market  for  their  products,  had  raised  the  rates  of 
the  tariff  so  high  that  it  virtually  destroyed  the  foreign  market 
of  the  cotton  planters,  who,  impetuous  by  nature,  and  domi 
neering  by  position  and  habit,  were  not  satisfied  to  oppose  the 
evil  under  which  they  suffered  by  argument  and  appeals  to  the 
justice  of  the  country,  but  threatened  a  resort  to  force.  En 
tangled  in  the  fine-spun  theories  of  constitutional  construction 
so  acutely  reasoned  by  Mr.  Calhoun,  they  talked  of  nullifying 


288  SUCCESS  OF   THE  POEMS. 

the  laws  of  Congress  by  State  ordinances,  which,  with  singu 
lar  infatuation,  they  professed  to  consider  a  peaceable  remedy. 
Mr.  Bryant  felt  keenly  the  wrongs  inflicted  upon  the  South  by 
the  pernicious  policy  of  protection,  and  had  battled  against  it 
more  earnestly  and  persistently  than  any  other  man  at  the 
North.  His  persuasions,  indeed,  had  brought  a  considerable 
number  of  his  Democratic  allies  to  his  views.  But  he  would 
not  allow  his  party  connections  to  seduce  him  into  any  kind 
of  approval  of  the  remedial  measures  proposed  by  the  nullifi- 
ers.  Long  before  the  interposition  of  Jackson  he  pronounced 
their  plans  impracticable  and  disorganizing,  and  he  warned 
them  against  the  incipient  treason  that  lurked  in  their  after- 
dinner  toasts  and  speeches.  While  adhering  to  the  doctrine 
of  State  Rights  as  an  imperative  maxim  in  matters  of  adminis 
tration,  he  looked  for  remedies  and  modes  of  adjustment  in 
cases  of  conflict  between  Federal  and  State  authorities,  to  the 
determinate  jurisdiction  of  the  Supreme  Court,  where  it  could 
be  applied,  and  where  it  could  not  be  applied,  to  remonstrances 
to  Congress,  to  appeals  to  the  people  in  their  elective  capacity, 
to  addresses  to  other  States  invoking  justice,  and  to  amend 
ments  of  the  Constitution  in  the  manner  prescribed.  Should 
these  constitutional  and  peaceful  methods,  however,  prove  in 
adequate,  he  was  willing  to  resort,  in  the  last  extremity,  to  the 
natural  right  of  resistance  to  oppression,  but  he  called  it  revo 
lution.  Nullification  and  secession  were,  in  his  eyes,  revolution 
in  disguise,  and  they  were  not  justified  by  the  circumstances. 
He  therefore  earnestly  supported  Jackson's  Union  Proclama 
tion  of  December  nth,  extolling  its  teachings,  and  approving 
its  menaces  of  legal  prosecution,  and,  if  need  be,  of  war.  For 
tunately,  war  was  evaded;  the  leaders  in  Congress  came  to 
their  senses  ;  the  more  odious  features  of  the  tariff  were  re 
pealed  by  the  compromise  tariff  of  1833,  and  a  promise  given 
of  the  final  extinction  of  that  kind  of  destructive  legislation.* 

*  The  "  Evening  Post "  regarded  the  Compromise  Tariff  as  a  timid  but  certain 
abandonment  of  the  protective  policy,  and  rejoiced  accordingly  :  "  We  should  be  un 
just  to  the  cause  we  have  constantly  and  zealously  maintained  were  we  not  to  ex- 


DEATH  OF  SANDS.  289 

This  year,  1832,  fatal  to  so  many  human  beings  because  of 
the  pest,  was  particularly  marked  by  the  number  of  distin 
guished  men  who  had  died  in  the  course  of  it — Goethe,  Scott, 
Cuvier,  Champollion,  Bentham,  Adam  Clarke,  Charles  Car 
roll,  and  the  young  Napoleon.  Mr.  Sands  had  written  a  poem 
on  the  subject,  called  "  The  Dead  of  Thirty-Two,"  and  three 
days  after  the  publication  of  it  (December  I7th)  he  sat  down 
to  complete  an  article  on  "  Esquimaux  Literature  "  for  the  first 
number  of  the  "  Knickerbocker  Magazine,*  when,  as  his  pen 
cil  had  just  traced  the  line, 

"  Oh,  deem  not  my  spirit  among  you  abides," 

he  was  smitten  by  a  paralysis  of  which  he  died.  Below  the 
line,  in  the  original  manuscript,  several  irregular  pencil-marks 
were  observed,  extending  nearly  across  the  page,  as  if  traced 
by  a  hand  that  moved  in  darkness,  or  no  longer  obeyed  the  im 
pulses  of  the  will.  During  the  brief  interval  of  lethargy  that 
followed  the  attack,  the  only  words  he  uttered  were,  "Oh, 
Bryant,  Bryant ! "  f  In  the  same  number  of  the  magazine  that 

press  our  deep  and  sincere  gratification  that  the  glorious  principle  of  free-trade  is 
proclaimed  by  a  solemn  legislative  act  of  this  country,  and  the  restrictive  system 
given  over  to  a  sure  though  lingering  dissolution.  .  .  .  This  journal  has  persevered 
in  the  cause  through  good  report  and  ill  report  ;  it  has  never  intermitted,  never 
slacked,  never  lowered  its  tone,  from  the  fear  of  going  too  fast  for  the  party  to  which 
it  has  been  attached  ;  for  which  course  we  have  received  much  abuse,  .  .  .  and  been 
fiercely  threatened  with  vengeance  ;  but  we  have  gone  on  unmoved." — March  4, 
1833.  In  these  sanguine  anticipations  the  writer  was  destined  to  great  disappoint 
ment.  Selfish  interests  are  not  so  easily  dislodged. 

*  Mr.  Bryant's  "  Arctic  Lover  to  his  Mistress"  was  intended  to  form  part  of  this 
article. 

f  "  He  was,"  said  Mr.  Bryant,  "  a  man  of  extraordinary  powers  and  attainments, 
joined  to  a  disposition  of  equal  humanity  and  goodness.  His  classical  acquisitions 
were  rare  in  an  age  not  fruitful  in  ripe  Latin  and  Greek  scholars,  and  his  acquaint 
ance  with  the  tragedians  of  Athens  was  scarcely  less  familiar  than  is  that  of  the  mod 
ern  English  scholar  with  the  dramas  of  Shakespeare.  In  the  literature  of  his  own 
language  his  reading  was  unusually  large  and  various,  and  to  this  he  had  added  an 
intimate  knowledge  of  that  of  several  languages  of  Europe.  He  possessed  an  intel 
lect  of  great  activity,  a  quick  and  prolific  fancy,  and  a  vein  of  strong,  racy,  original 
humor." 

VOL.  I.— 20 


290  SUCCESS  OF   THE  POEMS. 

contained  the  fragment  of  his  latest  production  was  a  short 
memoir  of  his  life  by  the  friend  whose  name  was  the  last  upon 
his  lips.*  The  same  friend  also  set  on  foot  the  project  of  a 
volume  of  his  collected  writings,  which  he  helped  the  editor, 
Mr.  G.  C.  Verplanck,  to  compile,  f 

*  "  Knickerbocker  Magazine."     No.  i.     New  York  :  Peabody  &  Co.,  1833. 
f  "The  writings  of  Robert  C.  Sands."     In  prose  and  verse.     With  a  Memoir  of 
the  Author.     Harper  &  Brothers,  1834. 


CHAPTER  FIFTEENTH. 

THE    BATTLE    WITH    THE    BANK. 
A.  D.    1833,  1834. 

THE  battle  of  arms  was  averted  ;  but  the  battle  of  opinion 
went  on,  with  scarcely  less  fury  than  before.  Jackson,  hav 
ing  routed  the  nullifiers,  was  determined  to  rout  the  specu 
lators  as  well — traders  on  borrowed  capital  he  called  them.  In 
his  first  message  (1829)  he  had  questioned  the  constitutionality 
and  uses  of  the  United  States  Bank — the  charter  of  which 
would  expire  in  1836 — and,  though  at  first  unseconded  by  his 
own  party  in  Congress,  he  renewed  his  attacks  until  the  final 
veto  of  the  bill  rechartering  the  institution  in  1832.  The 
questions  raised  were  mainly  economical,  but  they  were  soon 
complicated  with  mere  party  questions,  and  the  contest  was 
carried  on  with  unexampled  violence. 

In  its  tug  for  life  the  bank  encountered  no  more  active  and 
sleepless  enemy  than  the  "  Evening  Post,"  which  not  only  ap 
proved  the  measures  of  the  President  and  the  reasons  he  gave 
for  them,  but  took  a  broader  ground  of  hostility  to  all  special 
acts  of  incorporation,  and  to  all  attempts,  by  means  of  legisla 
tion,  to  remove  any  kind  of  business,  banking  in  particular, 
from  the  general  conditions  applicable  to  every  kind  of  busi 
ness.  Its  opinions  gave  offence  to  the  mercantile  classes, 
which  were  largely  the  dependents  or  patrons  of  the  bank. 
They  had  looked  on  with  some  impatience,  if  not  formal  dis 
sent,  when  it  argued  against  the  dissipation  of  national  funds 
in  various  local  jobs  of  pretended  improvement ;  but  they  left 


292         THE  BATTLE  WITH  THE  BANK. 

that  account  to  be  settled  by  those  who  were  directly  con 
cerned.  Many  of  them,  too,  formerly  the  advocates  of  a  free 
commercial  system,  were  now  inclined,  by  political  affinities, 
to  take  part  with  the  manufacturers,  whose  schemes  in  their 
own  behalf  were  seriously  menaced  by  the  logic  and  ridicule 
of  the  "  Evening  Post."  But,  now  that  it  assailed  the  bank, 
it  was  making  a  thrust  at  their  own  vitals.  They  believed,  as 
sincerely  as  they  believed  their  Bibles  or  their  ledgers,  that 
without  that  regulator,  a  safe,  sound,  uniform  paper  currency 
was  impossible.  No  domestic  exchanges,  save  at  enormous 
trouble  and  cost,  could  be  effected  without  it ;  no  easy  collec 
tion  and  transfer  of  the  public  revenues  made.  In  a  word, 
nothing  but  confusion,  disturbance,  panic,  and  loss  in  the 
whole  vast  field  of  commerce  and  industry  if  it  should  be  de 
stroyed.  Thinking  thus,  they  could  not  maintain,  by  their  ad 
vertisements  and  subscriptions,  a  journal  that  was  blowing  its 
trumpet  at  the  very  head  of  the  hostile  forces.  Accordingly, 
they  withdrew  in  large  numbers,  which,  however,  had  the 
effect  only  of  inflaming  its  zeal  and  fixing  its  determination.* 

Out  of  this  fiery  furnace  Mr.  Bryant  was  glad  to  escape,  in 
the  summer  of  1833,  by  making  a  visit  with  his  wife  to  Can 
ada.  Just  before  his  departure  he  was  invited  by  a  committee 
of  prominent  citizens — Dr.  Hosack,  James  G.  King,  Vice- 
Chancellor  McCoun,  and  others — to  prepare  an  address  on 
the  occasion  of  a  benefit  to  be  given  to  William  Dunlap,  the 
historian  of  the  stage,  when  Charles  Kemble  and  his  accom 
plished  daughter  Fanny,  and  a  young  actor  named  Edwin 
Forrest,  had  volunteered  to  appear ;  but  he  either  distrusted 

*  In  the  midst  of  his  political  distractions  Mr.  Bryant  could  yet  find  time  to 
amuse  himself  with  such  trivialities  as  the  New  Year's  addresses  of  his  carriers.  It 
was  a  custom  then  of  the  lads  who  distributed  newspapers  to  salute  their  "  patrons  " 
on  the  first  day  of  January — as  poets  laureate  do  their  sovereigns — in  doggerel  lines, 
which  recounted  the  events  of  the  year  and  predicted  good  times  to  come.  Whether 
anybody  read  these  effusions  it  is  hard  to  say.  They  are,  for  the  most  part,  unread 
able  now,  though  I  presume  that,  if  the  recipients  of  them  had  known  that  the  first 
poet  of  the  land  was  disguising  himself  as  an  humble  newsboy,  they  would  have  given 
more  attention  to  his  matutinal  lays. 


A  PROLOGUE.  293 

his  powers  to  write  for  occasions  *  or  was  so  eager  to  get  off 
that  he  declined  the  honor,  f  He  went  by  way  of  his  favorite 
Berkshire  Valley,  in  Massachusetts,  through  Vermont  to  St. 

*  How  very  much  he  was  indisposed  to  write,  or  even  to  translate,  for  occasions, 
appears  in  this  letter  to  Miss  Sedgwick,  dated  New  York,  February  12,  1834  : 

"  DEAR  FRIEND  :  I  am  sorry  to  decline  any  request  in  which  you  take  an  inter 
est,  particularly  when  it  is  urged  with  so  much  delicacy  ;  but  I  have  two  good  rea 
sons  for  not  undertaking  the  translation  of  the  ode  on  the  supposed  death  of  Pellico, 
of  which  you  shall  judge.  In  the  first  place,  I  have  several  things  on  my  hands  at 
present  which  occupy  all  my  leisure.  In  the  second  place,  I  have  looked  over  the 
ode,  and  doubt  my  ability  to  produce  such  a  version  as  would  satisfy  my  friends  and 
myself  with  anything  like  a  reasonable  expenditure  of  trouble.  You  know  that  our 
English  tongue  is,  of  all  languages,  the  most  intractable  for  the  purposes  of  poetic 
translation,  both  from  the  peculiarity  of  its  idioms  and  the  paucity  of  its  rhymes.  It 
is,  therefore,  a  work  of  vast  dexterity  and  patience — the  ne  plus  ultra,  I  had  almost 
said,  of  poetic  skill,  though  not  of  poetic  genius — to  produce  a  translation  in  Eng 
lish  which  shall  be  a  decidedly  good  poem  in  itself,  animated  with  the  fire  and  spirit 
of  an  original,  and  at  the  same  time  a  faithful  transfusion  of  the  ideas  of  its  proto 
type.  In  the  things  of  the  kind  which  I  have  executed,  I  have  not  kept  close  to  the 
original,  but  I  should  not  like  to  take  liberties  of  the  kind  with  the  ode  you  send  me, 
which  is  really  beautiful  and  affecting,  and  deserves  to  have  all  its  thoughts  and  im- 
sges  preserved  unmarred  and  unchanged. 

"I  am,  very  sincerely,  yours,  etc., 

"W.  C.  BRYANT." 

f  Not,  however,  without  having  made  some  attempts  of  that  kind.  Among  his 
papers  is  a  prologue,  written  for  the  opening  of  a  theatre,  not  named.  It  seems  to 
me  quite  as  good  as  those  of  Johnson  or  Goldsmith  ;  but,  unfortunately,  the  writer  has 
taken  his  notions  of  theatres  from  books  rather  than  from  actual  experience,  for  he 
supposes  that  -^schylus  and  Euripides  have  as  full  possession  of  the  stage  as  Shake 
speare,  judging  by  these  lines  : 

"  Here  shall  by  turns  to  wondering  crowds  be  shown 

Each  glorious  triumph  that  the  stage  has  known. 

Scenes  that  have  made  the  tears  of  ages  flow, 

And  words  that  thrilled  and  melted  long  ago. 

Orestes,  maddening  with  his  fancied  guilt, 

Shall  talk  with  Furies  o'er  the  blood  he  spilt ; 

And  pale  Medea,  with  a  sterner  air, 

Walk  in  her  calm  and  terrible  despair. 

And  Caesar,  slain  that  Rome  might  yet  be  free, 

Submit,  and  die  with  Roman  dignity. 

And  poor  Ophelia  plait  the  idle  wreath 

For  her  sick  brow,  and  sing  of  love  and  death. 


294 


THE  BATTLE  WITH  THE  BANK. 


Johns,  and  thence  to  Montreal  and  Quebec,  which  are  such 
miniatures  of  the  Old  World  that  he  came  back  with  a  strong 
desire  to  visit  Europe. 

For  a  while  Mr.  Bryant  was  now  busied  with  Mr.  Dana's 
literary  affairs,  and  subsequently  with  his  own,  to  which  these 
extracts  from  their  letters  refer : 

"NEW  YORK,  JUNE  21,  1833:  I  have  called  on  the  only  book 
sellers  here  who  would  be  likely  to  undertake  the  publication  of  your 
work.  The  Carvills  declined  on  account  of  the  'times/  observing 
that  they  had  already  on  hand  some  manuscripts  which  they  had  paid 
for  a  year  or  two  since,  and  which  they  had  delayed  publishing  on 
account  of  the  state  of  their  own  affairs  and  of  the  book  market. 
They,  however,  treated  the  application  very  respectfully,  and  did  not 
decline  until  they  had  heard  all  I  had  to  say,  and  considered  the  mat 
ter.  On  going  to  the  Harpers,  I  found  that  your  friend  Mr.  Wood 
had  prevented  me,  as  we  used  to  say  in  the  old  English  dialect,  which 
Dr.  Webster  threatens  to  reform  when  he  mends  the  common  version 
of  the  Bible.  Mr.  Wood  appears  to  have  said  everything  that  could 
be  said  on  the  subject,  and  to  have  left  the  brothers  impressed  with  a 
high  opinion  of  your  talents,  but  they  could  not  be  persuaded  that 
the  book  would  be  what  they  called  a  selling  book,  at  least  in  such  a 
degree  as  to  induce  them  to  offer  anything  for  it. 

"  You  do  well  in  republishing  your  prose.  It  will  be  better  re 
ceived  at  the  present  than  formerly.  Your  poetical  reputation  will 
cause  it  to  be  sought  for  and  read,  and  the  public  can  no  longer  be 
confined  to  the  cold  and  artificial  style  of  writing  which  was  then 
held  up  as  the  standard.  W.  C.  B." 

"NEW  YORK,  OCTOBER  2,  1833:  I  had  received  your  volume  of 
poems — for  which  I  thank  you  very  much — before  writing  the  notice 
you  speak  of,  in  the  '  Evening  Post.'  *  It  was  a  hasty  article — hasty, 
I  mean,  for  a  subject  to  which  I  was  so  desirous  to  do  justice — and  I 

And  Lear,  bareheaded  in  the  storm  that  tears 
The  pelted  woods  and  strews  his  aged  hairs, 
Find  colder  than  the  winds  upon  his  breast 
The  love  of  those  who  feigned  to  love  him  best." 
*  They  had  been  printed  at  Boston  in  the  interval. 


CORRESPONDENCE  WITH  DANA.  395 

saw,  on  reading  it  over  after  it  was  printed,  that  I  had  not  been  very 
happy  in  speaking  of  the  merits  of  the  poem  entitled  '  Factitious  Life.' 
I  had  neglected  to  say  anything  of  the  satire  of  the  piece,  which  was 
happy  and  well  directed.  I  have  seen  the  notice  of  your  book  in  the 
4  Christian  Register.'  It  was  not  written  by  a  person  capable  of  judg 
ing  of  your  writings,  but  I  thought  that  the  writer  meant  his  article  to 
be  a  friendly  one.  By  the  way,  I  have  to  make  amends  for  what  I 
said  about  a  critic  of  my  poems  in  the  '  Foreign  Quarterly  Review  ' 
before  I  had  seen  his  article.  You  may  remember  what  I  wrote  to 
you  on  that  subject.  Since  that  time  I  have  seen  the  *  Review,'  and 
have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  the  writer  meant  to  be  exceedingly 
kind,  condescending,  and  patronizing,  and  all  that ;  the  misfortune 
was,  that  he  did  not  know  how  to  criticise  poetry.  I  have  no  right 
to  complain,  for  he  wrote  in  a  friendly  spirit,  and  praised  me  enough, 
I  believe,  though  not  in  the  right  place.  What  is  the  reason  that 
none  of  the  critics  in  England  or  America,  except  Channing,  in  no 
ticing  my  things,  have  said  a  word  about  '  The  Past '  ? 

"  After  all,  poetic  wares  are  not  for  the  market  of  the  present  day. 
Poetry  may  get  printed  in  the  newspapers,  but  no  man  makes  money 
by  it,  for  the  simple  reason  that  nobody  cares  a  fig  for  it.  The  taste 
for  it  is  something  old-fashioned ;  the  march  of  the  age  is  in  another 
direction ;  mankind  are  occupied  with  politics,  railroads,  and  steam 
boats.  Hundreds  of  persons  will  talk  flippantly  and  volubly  about 
poetry,  and  even  write  about  it,  who  know  no  more  of  the  matter,  and 
have  no  more  feeling  of  poetry,  than  the  old  stump  I  write  this  letter 
with.  I  see  you  predict  a  change  for  the  better  in  your  new  preface 
to  the  'Idle  Man.'  May  it  come,  I  say  with  all  my  heart,  but  I  do 
not  see  the  proof  of  it,  or,  rather,  if  I  were  called  upon  to  point  out 
any  sign  of  its  approach,  I  could  mention  no  other  than  the  change 
which  criticism  has  undergone  in  speaking  of  your  writings.  Beyond 
this  I  discern  no  favorable  indication.  The  edition  of  my  poems 
published  by  Bliss  is  all  sold  but  a  handful  of  copies.  ...  I  think  of 
publishing  another  edition  soon,  and  will  get  you,  when  I  am  ready, 
to  inquire  what  your  booksellers  will  give  for  being  allowed  to  pub 
lish  a  thousand  copies." 

"NEW  YORK,  OCTOBER  17,  1833:  Will  you  see  your  booksellers, 
Russel,  Odiorne  &  Co.,  and  ask  whether  they  will  give  me  two  hun- 


296         THE  BATTLE  WITH  THE  BANK. 

dred  and  fifty  dollars  for  one  thousand  copies  of  my  book.  Mr.  Bliss 
has  offered  me  a  check  for  two  hundred  dollars  as  soon  as  I  put  the 
book  into  his  hands.  If  your  booksellers  do  not  offer  me  more,  I 
shall  let  him  have  it.  If  they  should  not  care  to  do  anything  about 
it,  will  you  inquire  what  my  volume  could  be  printed  for  at  Cam 
bridge,  and  let  me  know  when  you  write. '  I  shall  probably  add  to  it 
half  a  dozen  pages,  not  more.  My  manuscript  poem,  of  which  you 
speak,  was  not  finished,  and  was  not  quite  good  enough  to  publish. 
Will  you  resolve  a  critical  doubt  for  me  ?  John  Wilson  finds  fault 
with  the  passage  in  the  '  Forest  Hymn,' 

'—No  silks 

Rustle,  nor  jewels  shine,  nor  envious  eyes 
Encounter — ' 

as  out  of  place,  and  I  am  rather  inclined  to  think  him  right."* 

"NEW  YORK,  NOVEMBER  2,  1833:  I  have  completed  the  bargain 
with  Mr.  Odiorne,  and  have  given  him  my  book  with  such  corrections 
and  additions  as  I  have  been  able  to  make.  I  shall  avail  myself  of 
your  kindness  to  look  over  the  proofs.  As  most  of  the  type-setting 
is  to  be  done  from  printed  copy,  I  hope  it  will  not  give  you  much 
trouble.  Should  anything  occur  to  you  respecting  my  book,  whether 
in  the  way  of  objection  to  any  parts,  or  otherwise,  you  will  do  me  a 
favor  to  write  to  me  about  it.  I  need  not  say  how  much  I  am  obliged 
to  you  for  making  the  bargain  with  the  publishers  for  me.  I  have  a 
little  piece  by  me  in  blank  verse  entitled  'The  Prairies,'  for  which  I 
have  directed  room  to  be  left.  It  is  not  yet  quite  finished ;  the  con 
clusion  gives  me  some  perplexity.  The  winding  up  of  these  things 
in  a  satisfactory  manner  is  often,  you  know,  a  great  difficulty.  I  have 
sometimes  kept  a  poem  for  weeks  before  I  could  do  it  in  a  manner 
with  which  I  was  at  all  pleased.  All  this  is  in  favor  of  your  advice  to 
write  a  long  poem.  I  will  do  it  one  of  these  days.  I  will  write  a 
poem  as  long,  and,  I  fear,  as  tedious,  as  heart  could  wish.  I  congratu 
late  you  on  having  become  a  centre-table  poet.  Your  verses  will  be 
repeated  by  youths  and  maidens,  and  you  will  be  their  poet  through 
life." 


*  The  lines  were  omitted  in  later  editions. 


DANA'S  CRITICISMS. 


297 


"NEW  YORK,  NOVEMBER  u,  1833:  I  am  much  obliged  to  you, 
certainly,  for  giving  yourself  so  much  pains  about  my  verses.  Since 
you  think  so  ill  of  *  The  Robber '  as  to  place  it  below  everything  I 
have  written,  it  shall  not  go  into  my  book,  and  I  formally  authorize 
you  to  take  the  proper  measures  for  excluding  it. 

"  The  phrase  in  *  The  Past '  (wisdom  *  disappeared  ')  I  am  not 
quite  certain  is  a  defect.  I  have  sometimes  thought  it  was  a  bold 
ness.  Disappeared  is  used  nearly  in  the  sense  of  vanished,  departed, 
passed  away  ;  but  with  more  propriety  than  vanished,  since  that  relates 
to  a  sudden  disappearance.  At  all  events,  I  do  not  find  it  easy  to 
alter  the  stanza  without  spoiling  it. 

"  It  was  the  '  Edinburgh  Review '  which  remarked  on  the  rhyme 
boughs  and  bows  in  the  *  Evening  Wind.'  The  grammar  in  the  three 
last  lines  in  that  stanza  is  probably  not  clear,  for  the  critic  blundered 
in  copying  it,  and  made  nonsense  of  the  passage.  Suppose  the  rhyme 
and  construction  be  amended  in  this  manner : 

1  Go,  play  beneath  the  linden  that  o'erbrows 
The  darkling  glen  where  dashing  waters  pass, 
And  stir  in  all  the  fields  the  fragrant  grass.' 

And  let  the  second  line  in  the  same  stanza  read  thus : 

'Curl  the  still  fountain  bright  with  stars,  and  rouse,'  etc. 

"  As  to  the  passage  in  the  '  Forest  Hymn,'  remarked  upon  by  Wil 
son,  I  see  that,  in  attempting  to  mend  it,  I  have  marred  the  unity  and 
effect  of  the  passage.  The  truth  is,  that  an  alteration  ought  never  to 
be  made  without  the  mind  being  filled  with  the  subject.  In  mending 
a  faulty  passage  in  cold  blood,  we  often  do  more  mischief,  by  attend 
ing  to  particulars  and  neglecting  the  entire  construction  and  sequence 
of  ideas,  than  we  do  good.  I  think  a  better  alteration  than  I  made 
would  be  this : 

*  Communion  with  his  Maker.     These  dim  vaults, 
These  winding  aisles,  of  human  pomp  or  pride 
Report  not.     No  fantastic  carvings  show,'  etc. 

"As   to   the   other  passage  in  the  same  poem,  about  'life,'  and 

*  blooms  and  smiles,'  I  remember  very  well  when  I  wrote  the  word 

*  blooms '  that  I  had  a  vague  idea  of  its  impropriety,  but  I  did  not 


298         THE  BATTLE  WITH  THE  BANK. 

know  why  until  you  showed  me.     I  have  rung  half  a  dozen  changes 
on  the  faulty  line.     You  shall  choose  : 

1  — yea,  seats  himself 

Upon  the  tyrant's  throne — the  sepulchre — ' 
'  As  in  defiance,  on  the  sepulchre — ' 
'  In  loneliness  upon  the  sepulchre —  ' 

"  The  words  '  that  to  the  graves  seem,'  in  the  second  line  of  *  The 
Prairies,'  strike  me  as  feeble.  I  wish  the  commencement  of  that 
poem  to  stand  thus  : 

*  These  are  the  gardens  of  the  desert,  these 
The  unshorn  fields,  boundless  and  beautiful, 
And  fresh  as  the  young  earth  ere  man  had  sinned — * 
The  prairies,'  etc. 

*  To  sup  upon  the  dead  '  I  do  not  like.     '  Bosom  '  and  '  blossom  ' 
are  in  Wordsworth,  whose  rhymes  are  generally  correct : 
'  Fill  your  lap  and  fill  your  bosom, 
Only  spare  the  strawberry  blossom.' 

"  But  I  will  think  of  it.  I  have  cleared  away  the  rubbish,  as  far 
as  I  am  able,  from  the  first  part  of  the  volume  at  least,  and,  since  you 
have  kindly  undertaken  to  read  the  proofs  for  me,  I  will  give  you  the 
trouble  to  see  that  the  changes  noted  above  are  duly  made." 

Mr.   Dana's  answer  was   from   Cambridge,  December   7, 

1833: 

"The  printing  of  your  volume  has  gone  on  rather  slowly.  .  .  . 
They  will  make  a  handsome  volume  of  it,  I  think.  You  delivered  up 
1  The  Robber  '  like  a  man.  After  writing  you,  I  felt  a  little  troubled 
about  it,  lest  I  had  taken  too  great  a  liberty.  True,  I  would  gladly 
have  received  a  like  advice  from  you,  whether  I  finally  determined  to 
follow  it  or  not ;  but,  then,  you  are  a  master  in  these  matters,  and  I 
scarcely  so  much  as  a  learner  in  them.  Allston  was  up  here  to  see 
me  after  I  received  your  letter,  and  I  told  him  that  you  had  directed 

*  This  verse  is  not  now  in  the  poem,  but  in  its  place : 

"  For  which  the  speech  of  England  has  no  name." 


A   SUPPRESSED  POEM.  299 

its  omission.     He  said  he  was  glad  you  had,  and  added :  '  It  is  the 
only  thing  of  Bryant's  that  has  not  pleased  me.'  " 

*  This  ballad  was  first  printed  in  the  "  Mirror,"  where  it  was  highly  commended 
by  Mr.  N.  P.  Willis.  As  my  readers  would  no  doubt  like  to  compare  their  own 
judgments  with  those  of  Dana,  Allston,  and  Bryant,  I  shall  enable  them  to  do  so  by 
copying  what  they  suppressed  : 

"THE    ROBBER. 
"  Beside  a  lonely  mountain-path, 

Within  a  mossy  wood, 
That  crowned  the  wild,  wind-beaten  cliffs, 

A  lurking  robber  stood. 
His  foreign  garb,  his  gloomy  eye, 

His  cheek  of  swarthy  stain, 
Bespoke  him  one  who  might  have  been 

A  pirate  on  the  main, 
Or  bandit  from  the  far-ofi"  hills 
Of  Cuba,  or  of  Spain. 

"  His  ready  pistol  in  his  hand, 

A  shadowing  bough  he  raised  ; 
Glared  forth,  as  crouching  tiger  glares, 

And  muttered  as  he  gazed  : 
'  Sure,  he  must  sleep  upon  his  steed  ' 

I  deemed  the  laggard  near. 
I'll  give  him,  for  the  gold  he  wears, 

A  sounder  slumber,  here  ; 
His  charger,  when  I  press  his  flank, 

Shall  leap  like  mountain  deer.' 

"  Long,  long  he  watched,  and  listened  long, 

There  came  no  traveller  by  ; 
The  ruffian  growled  a  harsher  curse, 

And  gloomier  grew  his  eye  ; 
While  o'er  the  sultry  heaven  began 

A  leaden  haze  to  spread, 
And,  past  his  noon,  the  summer  sun 

A  dimmer  beam  to  shed  ; 
And  on  that  mountain  summit  fell 

A  silence  deep  and  dread. 

"  Then  ceased  the  bristling  pine  to  sigh, 

Still  hung  the  birchen  spray, 
The  air  that  wrapped  those  massy  cliffs 
Was  motionless  as  they. 


300         THE  BATTLE  WITH  THE  BANK. 

"  Your  substitute  for  boughs  and  bows  did  not  suit  me  much  better 
than  it  did  you ;  and  I  thought  that,  rather  than  injure  the  beautiful 

Mute  was  the  cricket  in  his  cleft. 

But  mountain  torrents  round 
Sent  hollow  murmurs  from  their  glens 

Like  voices  underground — 
A  change  came  o'er  the  robber's  cheek, 

He  shuddered  at  the  sound. 

"  'Twas  vain  to  ask  what  fearful  thought 

Convulsed  his  brow  with  pain. 
4  The  dead  talk  not,'  he  said  at  length, 

And  turned  to  watch  again. 
Skyward  he  looked  ;  a  lurid  cloud 

Hung  low  and  blackening  there, 
And  through  its  skirts  the  sunshine  came, 

A  strange,  malignant  glare  ; 
His  ample  chest  drew  in  with  toil 

The  hot  and  stifling  air. 

"  His  ear  has  caught  a  distant  sound, 

But  not  the  tramp  of  steed  ; 
A  roar  as  of  a  torrent  stream 

Swol'n  into  sudden  speed. 
The  gathered  vapors  in  the  west 

Before  the  rushing  blast, 
Like  living  monsters  of  the  air, 

Black,  serpent-like  and  vast, 
Writhe,  roll,  and,  sweeping  o'er  the  sun, 

A  frightful  shadow  cast. 

"  Hark  to  that  nearer,  mightier  crash  ! 

As  if  a  giant  crowd, 
Trampling  the  oaks  with  iron  foot, 

Had  issued  from  the  cloud  ! 
While  fragments  of  dissevered  rock 

Come  thundering  from  on  high, 
And  eastward  from  their  eyrie  cliffs 

The  shrieking  eagles  fly, 
And,  lo  !  the  expected  traveller  comes 

Spurring  his  charger  by. 

"  To  that  wild  warning  of  the  air 

The  assassin  lends  no  heed. 
He  lifts  the  pistol  to  his  eye, 
He  notes  the  horseman's  speed. 


CRITICISMS  CONTINUED.  301 

original,  it  had  better  be  left  as  it  was,  judging  from  your  expressing 
yourself,  rather  doubtingly,  that,  as  the  public  had  already  seen  it,  it 
might  run  once  more.  For  another  edition  you  may  perhaps  alter  it 
to  your  mind,  or  conclude  to  let  it  stand.  The  word  o'crbrows,  in 
your  alteration,  sounded  affectedly  to  me.  I  know  well  that  it  was 
with  you — 'a  forced  put*  at  a  change.  What  you  say  about  making 
alterations  *  in  cold  blood  '  is  true  enough.  If  you  feel  it,  who  are  so 
much  master  of  the  art,  you  may  rely  upon  it,  it  has  made  my  head 
and  heart  ache  in  trying  to  give  harmony  to  my  rough  metre,  or  to 
change  an  expression  to  my  mind. 

"  My  objection  to  disappeared,  in  'The  Past/. was  not  what  you 
suppose,  and  I  like  your  remarks  upon  the  distinctive  meaning  of  it. 
My  objection  was,  that,  although  merely  an  elliptical  expression,  it 
affected  me  like  a  participle /ftffftv,  and  this  impression  was  probably 
deepened  by  the  rhyming  word.  The  alterations  in  the  '  Forest 
Hymn  '  have  been  made  according  to  your  directions.  In  the  sec 
ond,  as  you  left  a  choice,  I  took,  without  hesitation,  the  first  proposed 
change : 

*  Yea,  seats  himself 
Upon  the  tyrant's  throne — the  sepulchre.' 

"  The  change  in  '  The  Prairies  '  introduced  as  you  directed.  In 
*  The  Lapse  of  Time/  fourth  stanza,  besides  the  rhyming  words  glow 
and  gOj  you  have  '  Could  I  forego  the  hopes/  etc.  I  had  no  time  to 

Firm  is  his  hand  and  sure  his  aim  ; 

But,  ere  the  flash  is  given, 
Its  eddies,  filled  with  woods  uptorn, 

And  spray  from  torrents  driven, 
The  whirlwind  sweeps  the  crashing  wood, 

The  giant  firs  are  riven. 

"  Riven  and  rent  from  splintering  cliffs, 

That  rise  like  down  in  air. 
At  once  the  forest's  rocky  floor 

Lies  to  the  tempest  bare. 
Rider  and  steed  and  robber  whirled 

O'er  precipices  vast, 
'Mong  trunks  and  boughs  and  shattered  crags, 

Mangled  and  crushed,  are  cast. 
The  catamount  and  eagle  made 

That  morn  a  grim  repast  !  " — "  New  York  Mirror,"  1833. 


302         THE  BATTLE  WITH  THE  BANK. 

write  you  about  it,  so  you  must  forego  a  change  this  time,  and  let  it 
go.  In  your  new  piece,  'The  Arctic  Lover,'  you  have,  as  a  rhyming 
word,  bespread.  I  don't  believe  that  this  is  a  word  after  your  own 
heart,  and  guess  it  was  used  because  you  could  not  make  out  your 
line  to  your  mind  by  the  simple  spread  without  more  trouble  than  you 
were  willing  to  give  it  at  the  time.  Where  used  at  all,  I  believe  it  is 
applied  to  smaller  things,  such  as  flowers  and  the  like,  but  fur  hides 
are  rather  too  sizable  articles.  You  can  think  of  it  against  your  next 
edition.  I  have  played  the  critic  enough  for  the  present.  You  may 
think  it  would  have  been  quite  as  well  if  I  had  begun  my  work  early 
enough  for  you  to  have  passed  judgment  upon  my  suggestions  before 
printing." 

"JANUARY  10,  1834:  Buckingham  applied  to  me  for  a  review  of 
your  book  for  his  monthly.  I  declined  on  the  score  of  health.  It 
was  indeed  a  reason,  but  not  the  reason.  For  us  poets,  as  Judge  Story 
would  say,  to  be  exhibiting  ourselves  before  the  public  in  the  charac 
ter  of  reviewers  of  one  another,  strikes  me  unpleasantly.  A  friendly 
paragraph  or  so  in  the  newspapers,  or  an  incidental  well-speaking  of 
one  another,  is  right,  and  may  do  good,  in  so  far  as  it  will  show  a 
curious  world  that  it  is  possible  for  two  men  to  follow  the  same  art, 
and  not  hate  each  other;  anything  beyond  that  might  be  taken  ac 
cording  as  it  was.  You  may  remember  that  I  pointed  out  in  your 
Agricultural  Ode,  p.  204, 

*  Till  men  of  spoil  disdained  the  toil.' 
In  '  Jupiter  and  Venus,' 

'Kind  influences.     Lo!  their  orbs  burn  more  bright.' 

It  troubled  me  to  read  it  as  measure.  You  may  be  amused  at  my 
objecting  to  a  movement  in  your  measure.  But  my  ear^  I  hope, 
has  always  been  more  musical  than  my  tongue ;  besides,  your  own 
excellence  in  these  things  gives  a  queerness  to  any  defects  in  you.  I 
may  walk  over  Parnassus  in  a  shag  Petersham — people  expect  nothing 
better  of  me  ;  but  it  won't  do  for  you,  my  dear  sir — nothing  short  of 
superfine  broadcloth  must  you  be  abroad  in.  You  may  have  seen  a 
review  of  me  in  the  '  American  Monthly '  by  Longfellow ;  it  is  re 
spectable  in  point  of  talent,  but  what  I  liked  it  for  was  a  certain  air  of 


DANA'S  POEMS. 


303 


frankness  and  heartiness.  As  for  my  versification,  I  am  as  sensible  of 
my  defects  as  he  can  be.  Mr.  Felton,  Greek  Professor  at  Cambridge, 
has  reviewed  me  in  the  *  Christian  Examiner.'  The  article  is  a  differ 
ent  one,  and  an  abler,  than  I  expected.  He  made  me  feel  that  he 
had  stretched  his  praise  too  far  in  parts,  which  gives  me  always  a 
feeling  of  pain  which  I  can't  describe.  Still,  he  has  been  free  in  his 
objections,  which  takes  off  from  this  feeling  of  excess.  I  feel  grateful 
to  him,  I  am  sure. 

"Times  are  changed  since  your  review  of  me  was  rejected  by 
certain  gentlemen  connected  with  the  *  North  American,'  and  I  wish 
the  hearts  of  those  individuals  were  changed  toward  me.  The  kind 
feeling  toward  me  which  these  late  instances  have  shown  have  touched 
me  even  to  sadness;  as  praise  I  have  hardly  thought  of  it,  it  has  gone 
so  straight  to  my  heart." 

"NEW  YORK,  APRIL  22,  1834:*  It  is  some  time  since  I  went 
through  your  book  for  the  purpose  of  noting  such  passages  as  ap 
peared  to  me  capable  of  amendment — though,  from  my  delaying  to 
write,  you  might  think  that  I  had  neglected  it.  You  shall  have  my 
animadversions  since  you  ask  for  them,  though  I  do  not  place  much 
stress  on  them.  The  line,  page  33, 

'  I  feel  its  sunny  peace  come  warm  and  mild 

To  my  young  heart,'  etc., 

strikes  me  as  faulty.  The  epithet  mild  I  think  tautologous  as  ap 
plied  to  peace.  It  is  much  like  *  mild  and  gentle  sympathy '  in  my 
Thanatopsis.  In  *  Thoughts  on  the  Soul'  I  am  certain  I  found  a 
bad  rhyme  when  I  read  the  first  edition.  I  have  gone  over  it  two 
or  three  times  in  search  of  it,  but  can  not  find  it.  I  have  marked 
the  line, 

1  Life  in  itself,  //  life  to  all  things  gives,'  p.  89, 

as  a  harsh  inversion.     In  the  '  Husband  and  Wife's  Grave,'  the  line, 
'Of  uncreated  light  have  visited  and  lived,' 

is  an  Alexandrine,  which  rarely  has  a  good  effect  in  heroic  rhyme, 
and  is  not  used  at  all  in  blank  verse,  and,  as  I  think,  with  good 
reason. 

*  From  Mr.  Bryant  to  Mr.  Dana. 


304  THE  BATTLE    WITH   THE  BANK. 

"Page  118: 

'  Dear  Goddess,  I  grow  old,  I  trow ; 
My  head  is  growing  gray.' 

"  In  this  passage  the  word  '  grow  '  is  repeated  without  any  beauty 
of  effect. 

"  Page  134 : 

*  Nor  live  the  shame  of  those  who  bore  their  part,'  etc. 
"  Is  not  this  passage  obscure  ? 
"  Page  141  : 

'  Quere  as  to  the  phrase  go  and  care  ' 

"Page  128: 

1  But  fluttered  out  its  idle  hour.' 

"  Can  the  word  *  flutter  '  be  applied  to  a  flower  in  this  manner? 

"  These  are  all  the  verbal  faults  which  I  have  found  in  reading 
over  your  poems  several  times.  I  am  sorry  I  have  not  a  better  list  to 
present  to  you,  for  the  sake  of  gaining  credit  for  my  diligence;  but 
we  must  take  things  as  they  are.  .  .  . 

"  I  am  sorry  your  health  continues  so  bad.  My  own  is  much  better 
than  usual.  I  have  gradually  discontinued  the  uses  of  coffee  and  tea, 
and  now  I  have  given  them  up  altogether.  I  have  also,  by  degrees, 
accustomed  myself  to  a  diet  principally  vegetable,  a  bowl  of  milk  and 
bread  made  in  my  house  of  unbolted  wheat  at  breakfast,  and  another 
at  noon,  and  nothing  afterward.  This  is  not  my  uniform  diet,  but 
nearly  so.  Its  effect  upon  me  is  so  kindly  that,  while  it  is  in  my  power 
to  continue  it,  I  do  not  think  I  shall  ever  make  any  change.  All  indi 
gestion,  costiveness,  slight  obstructions  of  bile  at  one  time,  and  the 
excessive  production  of  it  at  another,  disagreeable  sensations  in  the 
head,  nervous  depression,  etc.,  etc.,  are  removed  by  it,  while  the  capa 
city  for  intellectual  exertion  without  fatigue  is  much  increased;  in 
short,  I  do  not  recollect  that  I  have  enjoyed  better  health  or  more 
serene  spirits  since  my  childhood  than  I  have  done  for  more  than  six 
months  past.  I  mention  these  things  that  you  may  think  of  them — 
though  I  know  it  is  said  that  'what  is  one  man's  meat  is  another 
man's  poison.' 

"  The  line  you  remark  upon  as  faulty, 

'  Kind  influences — lo,  their  orbs  burn  more  bright,' 


DANA   CRITICISED.  305 

is  not  to  my  ears  unmanageable.  I  thought  that  I  had  a  parallel  for 
it  in  Milton,  but  I  do  not  find  it.  Some  critic  in  'Buckingham's  Mag 
azine,'  I  believe,  noticed  the  line  as  harsh,  but  I  paid  no  attention  to 
the  criticism,  being  in  the  habit  of  disregarding  all  that  is  said  about 
my  versification.*  But  since  it  seems  faulty  to  you,  who  are  quite  as 
great  a  heretic  as  I  am  in  this  matter,  I  will  consider  of  it  and  perhaps 
amend  it.  It  is  only  leaving  out  the  5,  you  know.  I  thank  you  for 
the  other  passages  you  have  marked,  and  will  not  fail  to  profit  by 
your  animadversions." 

"  MAY  Qth  :  .  .  .  Since  I  wrote  the  foregoing,  I  have  packed  up  my 
goods,  broken  up  housekeeping,  and  accompanied  my  wife  and  chil 
dren  to  Berkshire,  where  I  left  them  the  latter  part  of  last  week,  and 
now  I  am  again  without  a  home,  ready  to  wander  whithersoever  my 
inclination  may  lead — provided  I  can  raise  the  wind.  But  I  must  have 
a  word  with  you  concerning  the  question  you  put  anent  your  versifi 
cation.  In  this  art  I  think  you  have  a  manly  taste,  and  a  vigorous,  and 
ofttimes  a  happy,  execution.  In  this  it  appears  to  me  that  you  have 
the  advantage  of  most  of  our  writers  in  verse.  The  only  fault  that  I 
find  with  you  is,  that  you  sometimes  adopt  a  bad  order  of  the  words  for 
the  sake  of  the  measure,  or  rather  you  let  the  bad  order  stand,  for 
want  of  diligence  to  overcome  the  difficulty.  Perhaps,  however,  you 
do  right.  I  have  sometimes  been  conscience-smitten  at  wasting  so 
much  time  in  making  a  crabbed  thought  submit  to  the  dimensions  of 
the  metre,  to  frame  a  couplet  or  a  stanza,  so  that  the  tune  of  it  per 
fectly  pleased  my  ear,  at  the  same  time  that  the  expression,  the 
thought,  was  the  most  perfect  that  I  could  command.  I  fear  that  the 
process  has  been  attended  with  a  loss  of  vigor  and  freshness  in  the 
composition.  Your  general  system  of  versification  pleases  me — in 
'that  of  Mr.  Longfellow,  I  see  nothing  peculiar.  So  do  not  let  them 
plague  you  about  your  versification." 

Judging  by  the  tone  of  these  letters,  one  might  suppose  the 
writer  of  them  in  the  midst  of  a  quiet  and  contented  literary 
leisure.  But  Mr.  Bryant  was  really  living  in  the  very  vortex 
of  a  popular  tumult.  The  April  in  which  some  of  them  were 


*  Edgar  A.  Poe  condemned  it  also  in  "  Godcy's  Lady's  Cook." 
VOL.  i. — 21 


306         THE  BATTLE  WITH  THE  BANK. 

written  saw  the  outbreak  of  an  election  riot,  which  could  only 
be  quelled  by  calling  out  the  troops ;  and  three  months  later 
began  those  violent  assaults  upon  the  abolitionists,  which  ended 
in  conflagrations  and  murders.  In  the  latter  of  these,  the 
"  Evening  Post "  was  constantly  threatened  by  the  mob.* 

*  The  "  Evening  Post "  of  July  nth,  referring  to  these  events,  says  :  "  The  fury 
of  demons  seems  to  have  entered  into  the  breasts  of  our  misguided  populace.  Like 
those  ferocious  animals  which,  having  once  tasted  blood,  are  seized  with  an  insati 
able  thirst  for  gore,  they  have  had  an  appetite  awakened  for  outrage,  which  nothing 
but  the  most  extensive  and  indiscriminate  destruction  seems  capable  of  appeasing. 
The  cabin  of  the  poor  negro  and  the  temple  dedicated  to  the  service  of  the  living 
God  are  alike  the  objects  of  their  blind  fury.  What  will  be  the  next  mark  of  their 
licentious  wrath  it  is  impossible  to  conjecture.  If  the  unprincipled  journal  which  has 
raised  this  storm  is  capable  of  directing  it,  we  ourselves  may  expect  to  feel  the  ven 
geance  of  a  mob,  mad  with  passion,  or  drunk  with  the  mere  excitement  of  their  au 
dacious  proceedings." 


CHAPTER   SIXTEENTH. 

THE    FIRST    VISIT    TO    EUROPE. 
A.   D.    1834-1836. 

THE  fiercest  of  the  abolition  riots  Mr.  Bryant  escaped  by 
a  voyage  to  Europe,  which  he  says  he  had  resolved  upon 
provided  his  journal  should  not  be  knocked  to  pieces  by  the 
mob  or  merchants.  He  seems  to  have  concluded  that  there 
was  no  danger  on  that  score,  and  on  the  24th  of  June  set 
sail  with  his  family  in  the  good  ship  Poland,  Captain  Anthony, 
for  Havre.  For  once,  and  the  only  time  in  his  life,  he  applied 
for  an  office.  He  asked  the  Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  McLane, 
through  Verplanck  and  Cambreling,  congressmen  from  the 
city,  to  be  appointed  bearer  of  despatches,  a  place  that  carried 
no  emoluments  with  it,  but  offered  certain  facilities  of  entrance 
on  landing,  etc.  He  was  promised  it,  but  it  never  came,  and 
the  State  Department  had  some  difficulty  in  explaining  the  why 
and  wherefore  to  his  friends.  After  a  windy  and  cold,  but 
not  protracted,  voyage,  he  reached  France  on  the  twentieth 
clay.  Among  his  fellow-passengers  he  mentions  the  notorious 
Madame  Lalaurie,  who,  a  little  while  before,  was  driven  from 
New  Orleans  by  a  mob,  because  of  her  excessive  cruelty  to  her 
slaves.  "  She  was  a  portly,  polite  Frenchwoman,"  writes  Mr. 
Bryant,  "  and  her  husband,  who  seemed  a  good  sort  of  man, 
was  devoted  in  his  attentions  to  her,  though  she  diverted  her 
self  from  the  time  we  sailed  by  gambling  with  a  vulgar,  dis 
agreeable  Frenchman."  Her  story  had  preceded  her  to 
France,  and  when  she  went  to  the  theatre  at  Havre,  her  pres 


308  THE  FIRST    VISIT   TO  EUROPE. 

ence  becoming  known,  she  was  hissed  by  the  audience,  greatly 
to  the  delight  of  some  of  her  American  fellow-passengers. 
More  agreeable  companions  were  found  in  a  young  Swiss,  the 
Count  de  Portalis,  and  Mr.  J.  H.  Latrobe,*  his  travelling  tutor. 
The  journey  from  Havre  to  Rouen  was  made  by  the  Seine — a 
route  not  now  frequented — and  they  reached  Paris  in  the  midst 
of  the  festivals  of  July,  which  enabled  them  to  see  the  great 
city  in  all  its  splendor  and  gayety. 

Mr.  Bryant's  original  intention  had  been  to  spend  his  time 
chiefly  in  Spain,  by  the  language  and  literature  of  which  he 
was  singularly  fascinated ;  but  that  country  was  in  the  midst 
of  one  of  its  chronic  convulsions,  and  he  turned  his  face  toward 
Italy.  After  tarrying  several  weeks  in  the  French  metropolis, 
he  went  by  way  of  Lyons,  Marseilles,  and  the  beautiful  Cor- 
niche  road  along  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  to  Genoa. 
He  passed  a  month  in  Rome  and  one  in  Naples,  two  months  in 
Florence  and  four  in  Pisa,  mingling  much  in  the  Italian  so 
ciety  of  all,  and  then  came  back  by  way  of  the  Tyrol  to  Mu 
nich,  where  he  remained  three  months,  and  to  Heidelberg, 
which  kept  him  four  months.  As  some  account  of  these  move 
ments  is  to  be  found  in  the  "  Sketches  of  Travel,"  which  will 
form  a  part  of  his  collected  works,  I  shall  here  insert  but 
three  extracts  from  his  private  correspondence.  The  first  is 
to  the  Rev.  William  Ware,  giving  his  impressions  of  Italian 
scenery : 

"  FLORENCE,  OCTOBER  1 1, 1834 :  Talking  of  pictures  reminds  me  of 
Cole's  fine  little  landscape  taken  from  the  bridge  over  the  Arno,  close 
to  the  lodgings  which  I  occupy.  You  may  recollect  seeing  it  in  the 
exhibition  two  years  since.  It  presented  a  view  of  the  river  travelling 
off  toward  the  west,  its  banks  shaded  with  trees,  with  the  ridges  of  the 
Apennines  lying  in  the  distance,  and  the  sky  above  flushed  with  the 
colors  of  sunset.  The  same  fine  hues  I  witness  every  evening,  in  the 
very  quarter  and  over  the  very  hills  where  they  were  seen  by  the  artist 

*  Mr.  J.  H.  Latrobe,  of  Baltimore,  v:ith  whom  an  acquaintance  was  formed, 
which  was  continued  in  after  years. 


ITALIAN  SCENERY.  309 

when  he  made  them  permanent.  There  has  been  a  great  deal  of 
prattling  about  Italian  skies — the  skies  and  clouds  of  Italy  do  not 
present  such  a  variety  of  beautiful  appearances  as  those  of  the  United 
States — but  the  atmosphere  o>{  Italy,  at  least  about  the  time  of  sunset,  is 
more  uniformly  fine  than  ours.  The  mountains  then  put  on  a  beauti 
ful  aerial  appearance,  as  if  they  belonged  to  another  and  fairer  world 
— and  a  little  after  the  sun  has  sunk  behind  them  the  air  is  flushed 
with  a  radiance  that  seems  reflected  upon  the  earth  from  every  point 
of  the  sky.  Most  of  the  grand  old  palaces  in  Florence  are  built  in  a 
gloomy,  severe  style  of  architecture,  of  a  dark-colored  stone,  massive 
and  lofty ;  and  everywhere  the  streets  are  much  narrower  than  with 
us,  so  that  the  city  has  by  no  means  the  cheerful  look  of  an  American 
town  ;  but  at  the  hour  of  which  I  am  speaking  the  bright  warm  light 
shed  upon  the  earth  fills  the  darkest  lanes,  streaming  into  the  nar 
rowest  nook,  brightens  the  sombre  structures,  and  altogether  trans 
forms  the  aspect  of  the  place.  ... 

"  Thus  far  I  have  been  less  struck  with  the  beauty  of  Italian  scenery 
than  I  expected.  The  forms  of  the  mountains  are  more  picturesque, 
their  summits  more  peaked,  and  their  outline  more  varied  than  those 
of  the  mountains  of  our  own  country  ;  and  the  buildings,  of  a  massive 
and  imposing  architecture,  or  venerable  from  time,  seated  on  the 
heights,  add  much  to  the  general  effect.  But,  if  the  hand  of  man  has 
done  something  to  embellish  the  scenery,  it  has  done  more  to  deform 
it.  Not  a  tree  is  suffered  to  retain  its  natural  shape,  not  a  brook  to 
flow  in  its  natural  channel ;  an  exterminating  war  is  carried  on  against 
the  natural  herbage  of  the  soil ;  the  country  is  without  woods  and 
green  fields ;  and  to  him  who  views  the  vale  of  the  Arno  4  from  the 
top  of  Fiesole '  or  any  of  the  neighboring  heights,  grand  as  he  will 
allow  the  circle  of  the  mountains  to  be,  and  magnificent  as  the  edifices 
with  which  it  is  embellished,  it  will  appear  a  vast  dusty  gulf,  planted 
with  ugly  rows  of  the  low,  pallid,  and  thin-leaved  olive,  and  of  the  still 
more  dwarfish  and  closely  pruned  maples  on  which  the  vines  are 
trained.  The  simplicity  of  natural  scenery,  so  far  as  can  be  done,  is 
destroyed ;  there  is  no  noble  sweep  of  forest,  no  broad  expanse  of 
meadow  or  pasture-ground,  no  ancient  and  towering  trees  clustering 
with  grateful  shade  round  the  country  seats,  no  rows  of  natural  shrub 
bery  following  the  course  of  the  rivers  through  the  valleys.  The 
streams  are  often  but  the  mere  gravelly  beds  of  torrents,  dry  during 


310  THE  FIRST   VISIT   TO  EUROPE. 

the  summer,  and  kept  in  straight  channels  by  means  of  stone  walls 
and  embankments ;  the  slopes  are  broken  up  and  disfigured  by  ter 
races,  and  the  trees  kept  down  by  constant  pruning  and  lopping, 
until  somewhat  more  than  midway  up  the  Apennines,  when  the  limit 
of  cultivation  is  reached,  and  thence  to  the  summits  is  a  barren  steep 
of  rock  without  soil  or  herbage.  The  grander  features  of  the  land 
scape,  however,  are  beyond  the  power  of  man  to  injure  :  the  towering 
mountain  summits,  the  bare  walls  and  peaks  of  rock  piercing  the  sky, 
which,  with  the  deep,  irregular  valleys,  betoken,  more  than  anything  I 
have  seen  in  America,  an  upheaving  and  engulfing  of  the  original  crust 
of  this  world.  I  ought  in  justice  to  say  that  I  have  been  told  that  in 
May  and  June  the  country  is  far  more  beautiful  than  it  has  been  at 
any  time  since  I  have  seen  it,  and  that  it  now  appears  under  particu 
lar  disadvantages  in  consequence  of  a  long  drought.  .  .  ." 

The  next  is  addressed  to  Horatio  Greenough,  the  sculptor, 
who  was  engaged  on  his  statue  of  Washington,  ordered  by  the 
Government,  and  who  appears  to  have  consulted  Mr.  Bryant 
as  to  certain  intimations  given  him  from  home : 

"  PISA,  FEBRUARY  27,  1835  :  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  so  far 
advanced  with  your  statue.  Never  mind  as  to  what  Mr.  Everett  says 
about  the  necessity  of  sacrificing  your  taste  to  what  he  may  suppose 
to  be  the  taste  of  the  public.  As  you  are  to  execute  the  statue,  do  it 
according  to  your  own  notions  of  what  is  true  and  beautiful,  and  when 
Mr.  Public  wants  a  statue  made  after  his  own  whims,  let  him  make  it 
himself.  If  you  undertake  it,  give  us  a  Greenough;  the  statue  de 
serving  it,  the  popularity  will  come  sooner  or  later.  Mr.  Everett  talks 
like  a  politician,  but  a  politician  of  a  bad  school,  nor  has  he  gained 
much  by  following  his  own  maxims.  I  hope  to  be  permitted  to  see 
your  model  when  I  come  to  Florence." 

The  third,  written  the  day  after  that  to  Mr.  Ware,  is  the 
close  of  a  note  to  Miss  Sands,  which  sums  up  his  general  im 
pressions,  under  an  evident  feeling  of  home-sickness : 

"FLORENCE,  OCTOBER  12,  1834:  I  am  tempted  to  ask  what  I  am 
doing  so  far  from  my  native  country.  If  one  wants  to  see  beautiful  or 
majestic  scenery,  he  needs  not  go  out  of  the  United  States ;  if  he  is 


SUDDEN  RETURN  HOME.  3 1 1 

looking  for  striking  and  splendid  phenomena  of  climate  (I  say  nothing 
of  uniformity  of  temperature,  for  there  Europe  has  the  advantage),  he- 
needs  not  leave  the  United  States;  if  he  delights  in  seeing  the  great 
mass  intelligent,  independent,  and  happy,  he  must  not  leave  the  United 
States ;  if  he  desires  to  cultivate  or  gratify  his  taste  by  visiting  works 
of  art,  there  are  some  means  of  doing  so  in  all  the  great  American 
cities,  and  they  are  all  the  time  increasing.  If  he  wishes  to  make  the 
comparison  between  a  people  circumstanced  as  are  those  of  a  republic 
and  the  nations  which  live  under  the  rickety  governments  of  the  Old 
World— d  la  bonne  heure,  as  the  French  say — let  him  do  it,  and,  after 
having  made  the  comparison,  if  he  is  a  just  and  philanthropic  person, 
who  looks  to  the  good  of  the  whole,  and  not  to  the  gratification  of  his 
individual  tastes,  he  will  be  willing  to  return  and  pass  the  rest  of  his 
life  at  home.  If  he  dislikes  being  plagued  with  beggars,  if  he  hates 
idleness  and  filth,  if  he  does  not  like  to  feel  himself  in  a  vast  prison 
wherever  he  travels  in  consequence  of  what  is  called  the  passport 
system,  which  subjects  him  to  constant  examinations  and  delays  in 
going  from  one  place  to  another,  he  must  not  go  to  France  or  Italy ; 
and  if  he  cannot  bear  being  cheated  and  defrauded  by  rapacious 
hotel  keepers,  servants,  and  shopkeepers,  who  are  desirous,  as  the 
phrase  is  here,  to  '  profit  by  circumstances,'  he  must  not  travel  in 
Europe  at  all.  Do  not  suppose,  however,  by  this  that  I  have  finished 
my  travels,  and  am  coming  back.  I  am  only  making  a  plain  state 
ment  of  inconveniences,  to  which  I  am  willing  to  submit,  temporarily 
at  least,  for  the  sake  of  gratifying  my  curiosity." 

At  Heidelberg  his  residence  was  rendered  particularly 
pleasant  by  introductions  to  English,  American,  and  German 
families ;  but  it  was  interrupted  by  news  of  the  dangerous 
illness  of  his  colleague,  Mr.  Leggett.  Resolving  to  return 
home  at  once,  although  it  was  in  the  depth  of  winter,  he  left 
his  family  in  the  care  of  friends  until  the  spring  should  bring  a 
safer  time  for  travel.  On  the  2 5th  of  January  he  set  out  for 
Havre,  in  order  to  take  the  first  packet  for  New  York.  It 
was  not  among  the  least  of  the  regrets  occasioned  by  this 
abrupt  departure  that  it  deprived  him  of  the  society  of  Mr.  H. 
\V.  Longfellow,  who  had  joined  his  circle  a  few  days  before. 


3I2 


THE  FIRST    VISIT   TO  EUROPE. 


Beyond  a  dinner  or  two,  and  some  strolls  in  the  pine  forests, 
the  poets  found  few  opportunities  for  communion.  Mr.  Bryant 
had  all  the  more  occasion  to  feel  how  much  enjoyment  he  had 
lost  when  his  friend,  a  year  or  two  later,  imparted  his  Eu 
ropean  impressions  to  the  public  at  large  in  the  charming 
pages  of  "  Hyperion." 

On  arriving  in  Havre,  Mr.  Bryant  secured  a  passage  by 
the  packet  ship  Francis  I,  which  was  advertised  to  sail  on  the 
2d  of  February,  1836,  but,  owing  to  head  winds,  did  not  leave 
port  for  a  week.  When  the  winds  became  more  favorable 
she  put  to  sea,  but,  as  they  suddenly  chopped  round  again, 
blowing  a  gale,  she  was  driven  into  Plymouth,  where  she  re 
mained  for  another  week.  Mr.  Bryant,  availing  himself  of  the 
detention  to  land  in  England,  was  able  to  see  a  few  commercial 
towns,  but  not  the  rural  interior  which  he  desired.  At  length 
they  got  off,  but  the  weather  turned  up  rough  again,  and  he 
was  kept  ill  almost  from  shore  to  shore,  making  a  dreary  and 
irksome  passage  of  nearly  fifty  days  on  the  water.  He  reached 
New  York  on  the  evening  of  the  26th  of  March,  to  find  that 
his  publisher,  Mr.  Burnham,  had  died  in  the  interval,  and  that 
his  colleague,  Mr.  Leggett,  though  a  little  better,  was  still  very 
ill.  A  few  days  after  landing,  he  was  met  by  the  following 
invitation  to  a  public  dinner : 

"  NEW  YORK,  March  31,  1836. 
"  To  WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT. 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  Learning  with  pleasure  your  arrival  in  New  York, 
and  desiring  to  express  our  high  sense  of  your  literary  merits  and  esti 
mable  character,  we  beg  leave  to  congratulate  you  upon  your  safe  re 
turn,  and  to  request  that  you  will  name  a  time  when  you  will  meet 
your  friends  at  dinner. 

"  Very  respectfully  and  sincerely,  your  obedient  servants, 

"WASHINGTON  IRVING, 

"  F.  G.  HALLECK, 

"A.  B.  DURAND, 

"G.  C.  VERPLANCK,"  etc.* 

*  The  other  names  attached  to  the  letter  were  William  Dunlap,  Samuel  F.  B. 
Morse,  Thatcher  G.  Payne,  Robert  Sedgwick,  W.  T.  McCoun,  Henry  James  Ander- 


DECLINING  A  DINNER. 

To  this  offer  Mr.  Bryant  modestly  replied  as  follows: 

"  NEW  YORK,  April  2,  1836. 

"  GENTLEMEN  :  It  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  say  how  much  the  honor 
you  have  done  me  has  increased  the  pleasure  of  my  return  to  my  na 
tive  land,  and  how  high  a  value  I  place  on  such  a  testimony  of  kind 
ness  from  hands  like  yours.  I  cannot  but  feel,  however,  that  although 
it  might  be  worthily  conferred  upon  one  whose  literary  labors  had 
contributed  to  raise  the  reputation  of  his  country,  yet  that  I,  who  have 
passed  the  period  of  my  absence  only  in  observation  and  study,  have 
done  nothing  to  merit  such  a  distinction.  This  alone  would  be  a 
sufficient  motive  with  me,  even  were  there  no  others  which  I  might 
mention,  to  decline  your  flattering  invitation. 

"  I  am,  gentlemen,  with  greatest  consideration  and  regard, 
"  Your  obedient  servant, 

"WM.  C.  BRYANT." 

A  few  brief  extracts  from  letters  to  his  wife  will  now  best 
show  how  he  was  occupied  after  his  return : 

"  APRIL  i4th :  On  arriving  at  New  York  I  went  to  the  American 
Hotel,  where  I  was  put  into  a  little  room  containing  two  beds.  I  went 
to  the  other  hotels  and  could  find  no  better  accommodations.  Mr. 
Payne  came  to  make  me  a  thousand  apologies  for  not  answering  my 
letter  and  to  invite  me  to  his  house,  saying  that  his  wife  had  enjoined 
it  upon  him  not  to  return  without  me.  Mrs.  Ware  (her  husband  was 
then  absent)  insisted  upon  my  staying  with  them  till  I  could  find  lodg 
ings.  I  told  Payne  I  would  go  to  his  house,  where  I  am  still.  Just 
as  he  had  gone,  Dr.  Anderson  came  to  ask  me  to  occupy  a  chamber  in 
his  house. 

"  I  think  I  told  you  in  my  last  that  I  found  New  York  much 
changed — the  burning  of  one  of  the  finest  quarters  of  the  city,*  and 

son,  II.  Inman,  John  W.  Francis,  Theodore  S.  Fay,  George  D.  Strong,  C.  Fenno 
Hoffman,  C.  W.  Lawrence,  Prosper  M.  Wetmore,  George  P.  Morris,  Henry  Ogden, 
Edward  Sanford,  Morgan  L.  Smith,  J.  C.  Hart,  and  J.  K.  Paulding. 

*  On  the  night  of  the  i6th  of  December,  1835,  the  coldest  that  had  been  known 
for  fifty  years,  a  fire  broke  out,  which,  after  raging  for  three  days,  consumed  more 
than  six  hundred  houses ;  among  them  the  Merchants'  Exchange — a  fine  marble 
structure — the  old  South  Dutch  Church,  and  nearly  all  the  banks  of  \Vall  Street. 
The  loss  was  estimated  at  nearly  twenty  millions  of  dollars. 


314  THE  FIRST   VISIT   TO  EUROPE. 

the  building  of  many  elegant  new  houses,  churches,  and  other  public 
buildings,*  have  given  it  quite  a  new  aspect.  Astor's  new  hotel  is  an 
edifice  of  massive  granite,  and  the  new  university,  in  the  Byzantine 
style  of  architecture,  is  the  finest  public  building  in  the  city.  Every 
thing  in  New  York  is  become  exorbitantly  dear — wages,  rents,  provi 
sions — the  latter  have  risen  one  half;  but,  now  that  the  Hudson  is  open 
(it  was  closed  till  three  days  ago),  it  is  thought  they  will  decline  some 
what  in  price.  People  of  small  fixed  income  complain  that  they  can 
not  live  as  formerly,  and  some  talk  of  going  abroad  to  find  a  cheaper 
country." 

"NEW  YORK,  APRIL  2yth  :  Miss  Martineau  is  yet  in  town,  and  is 
the  great  lioness  of  the  day.  Mr.  Ware  is  a  great  admirer  of  hers. 
She  goes  on  the  2d  of  May  to  Stockbridge,  and  from  Stockbridge  to 
Niagara,  and  from  Niagara  to  Chicago  ;  in  June  she  will  return  again 
to  New  York,  and  in  August  sail  for  England.  Miss  Martineau  is  a 
person  of  lively,  agreeable  conversation,  kind  and  candid,  but  rather 
easily  imposed  upon,  and  somewhat  spoiled,  perhaps,  by  the  praises 
she  has  received,  and  the  importance  allowed  to  her  writings.  She 
came  out  with  a  Miss  Jeffrey  as  her  companion,  who  returned  to  Eng 
land  the  first  of  this  month.  Miss  Martineau's  friends  fear  that  she 
intends  to  anticipate  Miss  Martineau  by  publishing  the  journal  of  her 
travels.  She  has  seen  exactly  what  Miss  Martineau  has,  and  as  she 
has  two  good  ears,  which  Miss  Martineau  has  not,  she  has  heard  a 
great  deal  more."  .  .  . 

"  MAY  6th :  I  am  going  this  afternoon  to  Great  Barrington,  and 
this  letter  will  be  carried  by  the  packet  of  the  8th.  Since  I  wrote 
what  you  have  read  of  Miss  Martineau,  I  have  been  told  by  Miss 
Sedgwick  that  she  has  some  queer  notions  about  this  country,  and 
some  strange  stories  about  our  people,  and  that  we  are  likely  to  get 
into  the  book  she  is  going  to  write.  Among  the  stories  is  one  about 
General  Jackson's  cheating  somebody  in  a  most  outrageous  manner. 
She  will  come  out  with  the  story  at  a  very  bad  time  for  the  success  of 
her  book  in  this  country.  The  prejudices  against  the  old  man  are 
very  much  softened  already,  and  the  moment  he  withdraws  from 

*  The  Croton  Aqueduct  was  begun  this  year,  but  was  not  available  for  the  great 
fire. 


J/AV.V 


315 


public  life  he  will  be,  by  general  consent,  one  of  the  best  men  that 
ever  lived.  She  has  also  a  story  about  a  plot  formed  by  Jackson  and 
l>enton  to  steal  Texas  from  the  Mexicans,  in  order  to  keep  up  the 
power  of  the  slave-holding  States.  Besides  these,  she  has  picked  up 
various  facts,  as  she  calls  them,  relating  to  the  abolition  question, 
some  of  which  are  exceedingly  improbable.  While  at  Boston  she  fell 
in  with  Dr.  Follen  and  his  wife.  Follen  is  a  German  ;  he  came  to  this 
country  with  high  expectations  ;  they  were  disappointed,  and  he  be 
came  exceedingly  discontented.  Miss  Martineau  has  adopted  his 
views,  about  the  country,  which  are  quite  unfavorable,  and,  in  some 
instances,  grossly  mistaken  ;  and  when  she  has  once  taken  up  an  opin 
ion,  which  she  often  does  very  hastily,  there  is  no  reasoning  her  out 
of  it.  At  Boston  the  abolitionists  took  possession  of  her.  She  is  now 
going  to  Niagara  with  Dr.  Follen  and  his  wife  and  another  lady,  a 
zealous  abolitionist,  whose  name  I  do  not  recollect.  .  .  ". 

"As  to  my  returning  to  Europe,  I  can  say  nothing  further,  except 
that  I  do  not  see  any  prospect  of  it  at  present.  Mr.  Leggett's  health 
is  improving  ;  he  is  at  New  Rochelle,  and  some  time  must  pass  before 
he  is  able  again  to  attend  to  the  management  of  the  paper.  It  is  very 
important  that  the  paper  should  not  again  be  left  in  the  state  in  which 
it  has  been  for  the  last  six  months.  I  thought,  when  I  was  on  board 
the  Francis  I,  that  I  would  on  no  account  go  to  sea  again  ;  but  now, 
if  it  were  in  my  power,  I  would  embark  to-morrow  and  join  you 
again  at  Heidelberg.  I  fear,  however,  that  I  shall  not  see  Europe 
again."  .  .  . 

Miss  Martineau,  during  her  visit  to  this  country,  directed  a 
great  deal  of  interest  to  the  subject  of  copyright  for  foreign 
authors,  and,  on  her  return  to  England,  got  up  a  petition  to 
Congress,  which  was  largely  signed  by  prominent  English 
writers.  She  enclosed  it  to  Mr.  Bryant,  with  notes  from 
Wordsworth,  Lord  Brougham,  Miss  Edgeworth,  and  others, 
adding,  "  You  can  help  us  both  as  author  and  editor,  and  I 
beseech  you  to  operate  with  all  your  might."  The  request 
was  scarcely  needed,  for  the  "  Evening  Post  "  had  already 
taken  up  the  question.  The  book  press  of  the  country  was 
pouring  forth  reprints  of  English  works  with  astonishing  fer- 


3i6  THE  FIRST   VISIT  TO  EUROPE. 

tility,  and  few  but  English  authors  were  read,  inasmuch  as  the 
publishers,  having  nothing  to  pay  them,  could  afford  to  sell 
their  productions  at  a  much  cheaper  rate  than  those  written 
on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  even  when  written  with  the  same 
degree  of  talent  and  attractiveness.  The  "  Evening  Post," 
however,  placed  no  stress  on  the  scheme  for  an  interna 
tional  copy-right  law,  which  Miss  Martineau  urged,  but, 
consistently  with  its  course  on  all  commercial  questions,  main 
tained  that,  if  literary  property  is  to  be  recognized  by  our 
laws,  it  ought  to  be  recognized  without  regard  to  the  legis 
lation  of  other  countries ;  that  the  author  who  is  not  natural 
ized  deserves  to  be  protected  in  the  enjoyment  of  it  equally 
with  the  citizen  of  the  republic,  and  that  to  possess  ourselves 
of  his  books  simply  because  he  is  a  stranger  is  as  gross  an 
inhospitality  as  if  we  denied  his  right  to  his  baggage  or  the 
wares  he  might  bring  from  abroad  to  dispose  of  in  our 
market.  The  public  mind  seemed  to  be  prepared  for  abolish 
ing  any  unequal  distinction  in  the  right  of  property  founded 
on  birth  or  citizenship,  and  the  publishers  and  booksellers, 
who  had  at  first  been  averse  to  the  measure,  were  at  length 
brought  to  give  it  their  assent.  But  the  members  of  Con 
gress  were  not  ready.  They  did  not  understand  the  ques 
tion  ;  no  party  purpose  was  to  be  served  by  studying  it,  or 
supporting  any  measure  connected  with  it ;  no  disadvantage 
was  likely  to  accrue  to  either  party  from  neglecting  it,  and 
for  this  reason,  as  Mr.  Bryant  said,  politicians  by  profession 
always  yawned  when  the  subject  happened  to  be  broached. 
Up  to  this  time  it  has  remained  untouched  by  the  national 
Legislature. 

I  now  continue  the  extracts  from  Mr.  Bryant's  correspond 
ence  : 

"  NEW  YORK,  MAY  23d  :  I  have  made  a  bargain  with  the  Harpers 
for  publishing  my  poems.  They  are  to  do  it  in  a  neat  manner,  and 
with  a  vignette  in  the  title-page.  I  have  written  to  Wier  to  furnish  a 
design.  They  will  pay  me  twenty-five  cents  a  copy ;  the  work  is  to 
be  stereotyped,  and  an  impression  of  twenty-five  hundred  is  to  be 


LETTERS   TO  MRS.  BRYANT.  3x7 

struck  off  at  first.     For  these  I  shall  be  paid  six  hundred  and  twenty- 

dollars.* 

r.  Charles  Mason  f  has  assisted  me  in  the  management  of  the 

r  till  now,  but  he  will  leave  me  in  a  few  days.  It  is  my  intention 
to  employ  some  young  man  to  relieve  me  of  a  part  of  the  drudgery, 
such  as  looking  over  the  mail  papers  and  getting  out  the  local  news, 
etc.  Do  not  give  yourself  any  trouble  about  me ;  I  am  in  excellent 
health — never  better — and  am  fatter  than  when  I  left  Europe.  I  met 
Mr.  Halleck  the  other  day ;  he  enquired  about  you,  as  he  always  does. 
He  says  the  world  is  going  back ;  that  nothing  is  talked  of  but  stocks 
and  lots  and  speculations ;  that  many  of  his  old  acquaintances,  who 
were  formerly  rational  companions,  are  now  so  sordid  in  their  conver 
sation  that  it  is  absolutely  intolerable,  and  therefore  he  has  forsworn 
society  altogether.  I  have  seen  Mr.  Cooper  several  times  since  my 
return ;  he  appears  quite  discontented,  and  talks  of  going  back  to 
Europe.  He  has  just  published  a  book  about  Switzerland.  I  have 
not  read  it.  Mr.  Halleck  says  it  is  a  good  book." 

"  NEW  YORK,  MAY  3ist :  J  An  apology  as  usual.  I  have  been  much 
engaged  in  various  affairs  since  my  return,  and  have  carried  your 
letter  for  a  long  time  in  my  coat  pocket,  hoping  that  the  time  would 
arrive  when  I  could  collect  my  thoughts  and  answer  it  in  a  better 
manner  than  I  shall  now  do.  I  had  heard  before  you  wrote,  and  was 
glad  to  hear,  that  you  had  found  an  occupation  for  the  winter  in 
Boston.  §  Why  should  you  dwell  upon  the  ungrateful  part  of  it  ? 
Here  am  I,  who  have  been  chained  to  the  oar  these  twenty  years, 
drudging  in  two  wrangling  professions  one  after  the  other;  and  it  as 
tonishes  me  to  hear  a  man  of  your  tastes  talk  of  the  misery  of  being 
obliged  to  point  out  the  beauties  of  the  English  poets.  As  to  the 
effect  of  analysis,  it  is  doubtless  just  as  you  say,  but  there  is  a  pleasure 
annexed  to  it — that  of  the  discovery  of  truth.  I  have  often  wished 
that  I  could  tell  why  I  am  pleased  with  this  or  that  fine  passage  or 
poem.  It  would  have  been  a  'joy  unspeakable  '  to  my  wife  and  me 

*  They  were  published  in  a  neat  one-volume  edition. 

f  Afterward,  I  think,  Chief  Justice  of  Iowa. 

t  To  R.  II.  Dana. 

§  Lecturing  on  the  poets. 


3i8  THE  FIRST   VISIT  TO  EUROPE. 

could  it  have  been  in  our  power  to  read  one  of  your  pleasant  letters 
in  the  midst  of  the  solitude  which  surrounded  us  in  the  cities  of 
strangers.  .  .  . 

"  Plans  for  the  future  I  have  none  at  present,  except  to  work  hard, 
as  I  am  now  obliged  to  do  ;  I  hope,  however,  the  day  will  come  when 
I  may  retire  without  danger  of  starving,  and  give  myself  to  occupa 
tions  that  I  like  better.  But  who  is  suffered  to  shape  the  course  of 
his  own  life  ?  I  have  bargained  for  printing  a  third  edition  of  my 
book.  They  will  stereotype  it,  and  allow  me  the  same  compensation 
that  was  paid  me  by  Russell,  Odiorne  &  Co.  I  am  to  have  a  vignette 
for  the  title-page  from  a  design  by  Wier,  illustrating  the  little  poem 
called  *  Inscription  for  the  Entrance  to  a  Wood.'  It  is  a  copy  of  a 
little  landscape  at  West  Point. 

"  Cooper,  you  know,  has  published  a  book  about  Switzerland ;  I  have 
not  read  it,  but  it  seems  more  likely  to  take  than  his  last.  Verplanck 
is  getting  up  an  edition  of  one  of  his  public  discourses,  with  illustra 
tions  by  Wier.  I  saw  the  illustrations  before  I  went  to  Europe.  They 
were  a  mere  outline  in  pen  and  ink,  in  a  broad  margin  of  the  book,  a 
sort  of  running  pictorial  commentary  on  the  text ;  a  new  idea,  and  in 
many  parts  strikingly  executed.  They  are  to  be  published  precisely 
in  the  same  manner."  .  .  . 

"  NEW  YORK,  JULY  4th  :  *  I  employ  the  leisure  which  this  day  gives 
me  in  beginning  a  letter  which  must  be  sent  on  the  8th  of  this  month. 
Day  before  yesterday — Saturday — I  went  to  Orange  Spring  for  the 
purpose  of  passing  Sunday  and  the  4th  of  July.  I  found  the  place 
uncommonly  beautiful.  The  season  has  been  so  rainy  that  the  vege 
tation  was  exceedingly  luxuriant,  and  the  verdure  the  most  brilliant 
that  can  be  imagined ;  but  the  weather  was  very  hot,  and  you  know 
how  sultry  Orange  is  in  the  summer ;  the  mosquitoes  were  very  nu 
merous  and  very  hungry;  my  chamber,  which  was  in  the  third  story, 
just  under  the  roof,  was  un  volcan  dc  fuego,  as  Salazar  f  used  to  say, 
and  the  house,  which  is  badly  kept,  was  crammed  with  fashionable 
company.  So  the  next  morning,  which  was  Sunday,  I  paid  my  bill, 
took  my  umbrella,  and  a  paper  containing  a  clean  shirt  and  a  razor,  in 

*  To  Mrs.  Bryant. 

f  A  Spanish  gentleman  with  whom  Mr.  Bryant  once  lodged. 


AFFAIRS  OF   THE  "EVENING  POST." 


319 


my  hand,  and  walked  to  Newark.  Arrived  at  Newark,  I  found  that 
no  public  conveyance  was  to  be  had  to  New  York,  and,  accordingly,  I 
concluded  to  finish  my  journey  on  foot.  When  about  three  miles  from 
Hoboken,  I  was  overtaken  by  a  man  in  a  gig,  who  asked  me  to  ride, 
which,  being  a  little  tired,  I  accepted,  and  got  to  New  York  by  dinner 
time,  and  here  I  am  again  in  my  own  chambers  when  I  thought  to  be 
rambling  the  woods  on  the  mountain-side  of  Orange.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Cole- 
man's  proceedings  against  Leggett  resulted  in  his  making  over  to  her 
one  entire  third  part  of  the  establishment  of  the  '  Evening  Post,'  so 
that  she  comes  in  as  partner,  with  a  voice  in  the  control  of  the  paper. 
I  had  no  objection  to  this,  because  Leggett  sometimes  needs  a  curb. 
Dr.  Anderson  has  taken  much  interest  in  the  paper  since  my  return ; 
he  has  frequently  written  for  it,  and  his  articles  are  excellent  both  for 
matter,  style,  and  temper.  Mr.  Leggett  is  yet  at  New  Rochelle,  im 
proving  in  health,  but  not  rapidly.  I  do  not  believe  he  will  return  to 
the  paper  till  cool  weather.  In  the  mean  time,  I  have  nobody  to  as 
sist  me  except  Dr.  Anderson,  whose  assistance  is  a  secret ;  nor,  in 
truth,  do  I  feel  much  need  of  any  assistance.  My  health  is  excellent; 
I  work  harder  than  I  ever  did  before,  but  I  was  never  so  well  able  to 
work  hard  before.  I  think  I  should  be  quite  stout  if  study  did  not 
keep  me  down ;  as  it  is,  my  digestion  is  always  perfect,  my  head  clear, 
and  my  mind  serene.  I  only  want  you  and  the  children  back,  to  be 
as  contented  as  I  can  be  while  harnessed  to  the  wain  of  a  daily  paper. 
The  '  Evening  Post '  was  a  sad,  dull  thing  during  the  winter,  after 
Sedgwick  *  left  it,  and  people  were  getting  tired  of  it.  I  have  raised 
it  a  good  deal,  so  that  it  begins  to  be  talked  about  and  quoted.  It 
needed  my  attention  very  much.  ...  I  must  now  apply  myself  to 
bringing  it  up  to  its  old  standard,  after  which  I  shall  look  for  a  pur 
chaser.  Dr.  Anderson  says  he  will  find  me  one.  I  think,  from  the 
attention  he  pays  to  politics,  visiting  frequently,  talking  much,  and 
coming  to  the  office  to  read  the  papers  we  receive  in  exchange,  that 
he  may  possibly  become  a  purchaser  himself.  But  he  will  not  confess 
that  he  has  any  such  thoughts."  .  .  . 

*  Theodore  Sedgwick,  Jr.,  a  distinguished  young  lawyer,  son  of  the  Theodore 
Sedgwick,  of  Massachusetts,  named  on  p.  178,  and  a  nephew  of  Miss  C.  M.  Sedg 
wick,  who  assumed  temporary  control  of  the  "  Evening  Post  "  during  Mr.  Leggett's 
illness.  He  wrote  for  it,  also,  several  masterly  essays  on  public  questions  under  the 
signature  of  "  Veto." 


320  THE  FIRST    VISIT   TO  EUROPE. 

"JULY  5th:  Mrs.  Van  Polanen  is  really  going  to  Holland.  Mr. 
Ware  thinks  she  is  going  to  be  married.  She  has  offered  me  her 
house  at  the  rate  of  five  hundred  dollars  a  year,  which  is  reasonable 
enough  as  rents  go ;  but  she  wants  me  to  take  it  from  next  August, 
which  is  three  months  earlier  than  I  want  it,  as  I  suppose  you  will  not 
leave  Heidelberg  earlier  than  September,  in  which  case,  if  you  stop  a 
little  at  Paris  or  London,  you  will  not  arrive  here  till  the  ist  of  Novem 
ber.  She  expressed,  however,  a  willingness  to  make  some  deduction 
on  that  account.  I  think  that,  if  she  will  make  it  equally  cheap  to  me, 
or  nearly  so,  I  will  furnish  a  room  in  that  house,  and  live  there  till 
you  return.  She  wants  you  to  return  by  way  of  Holland,  and  to  pass 
through  the  Hague,  where  she  will  reside."  * 

"  NEW  YORK,  JULY  2oth  :  Now  for  myself,  and  the  promise  I  made 
you  to  get  somebody  to  help  me  in  the  paper.  This  promise  is  liter 
ally  fulfilled.  I  have  got  Dr.  Anderson  to  help  me,  and  a  very  able 
helper  he  is.  The  varieties  from  foreign  journals  which  you  see  in 
the  '  Evening  Post '  are  all  compiled  by  him,  and  now  and  then  a  very 
able  leading  article  is  from  his  pen.  The  paper  is  in  better  odor  than 
when  I  returned,  but  I  do  not  see  that  the  subscribers  increase,  al 
though  everybody  praises  it.  Mr.  Leggett  is  yet  in  the  country.  My 
own  health  is  excellent ;  I  sleep  well,  eat  with  a  regular  appetite,  and 


*  The  Mrs.  Van  Polanen  here  referred  to  will  be  remembered  by  older  residents 
of  New  York  as  the  wife  of  Mr.  Roger  Gerard  Van  Polanen,  who  for  many  years 
represented  his  native  country,  Holland,  in  the  United  States,  as  Consul  General  in 
Washington's  time,  and  as  Minister  in  Jefferson's.  Before  coming  here  he  had  held 
high  official  stations — in  Asia,  as  the  head  of  the  Judiciary  in  the  Dutch  Colony  of 
Batavia,  in  Africa  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  in  South  America  in  Dutch  Guiana. 
His  varied  experiences  in  these  positions,  together  with  his  intimate  acquaintance 
with  nearly  all  the  literatures  of  Europe — German,  French,  Italian,  and  English — 
rendered  him  a  most  agreeable  companion  ;  and,  as  he  had  been  personally  acquainted 
with  Voltaire,  Gibbon,  and  Fox,  his  reminiscences  were  delightful,  particularly  his 
stories  of  Gibbon's  weekly  dinners  at  Lausanne,  where  he  met  the  most  illustrious 
scholars  and  statesmen  of  Europe.  Mrs.  Van  Polanen,  his  wife,  was,  like  himself,  a 
native  of  Holland,  and  almost  equally  accomplished.  She  became  a  Unitarian  in  the 
course  of  her  residence  in  this  country,  and  built  a  pretty  church  for  that  faith  at 
Bridgeport,  in  Connecticut.  They  were  both  of  them  early  attracted  to  Mr.  Bryant, 
who  found  the  greatest  pleasure  in  their  society. 


MARTIN  VAN  BUREN.  321 

work  hard.  My  book  will  be  out  in  about  a  fortnight.  The  engrav 
ing  for  the  title-page  is  neatly  executed.  .  .  . 

"  I  went  to-day  to  see  Mr.  Van  Buren.  He  looks  a  little  older 
than  when  I  saw  him  last ;  the  newspapers  say  he  is  about  to  be  mar 
ried  to  a  literary  lady — one  paper  named  Miss  Martineau.  He 
laughed.  Miss  Martineau,  you  know,  has  a  very  bad  opinion  of  him. 
He  said  he  was  told  it  was  Mrs.  Willard.  I  found  the  little  magician 
at  the  Astor  Hotel.  He  was  in  a  parlor  facing  the  South ;  the  sun 
was  blazing  against  the  shutters,  which  were  nearly  closed,  and  the 
room  was  a  furnace  of  heat.  I  told  (Judge)  Oakley,  who  was  with 
me,  that  I  believed  this  was  a  contrivance  to  shorten  the  calls  of  his 
visitors.  These  politicians,  you  know,  are  politic  in  everything;  they 
even  'drink  tea  by  stratagem.'  The  vice-president's  son,  Major  Van 
Buren,  was  with  him,  a  handsome,  manly  looking  young  man.  Matty 
very  familiarly  asked  how  old  I  was. 

"  The  world  is  running  very  much  into  novels — the  literary  world, 
I  mean.  Here  are  three  in  one  week.  *  Elsawatawa,'  I  believe  that 
is  the  name,  by  a  Virginian,  said  to  be  no  great  matter;  *  Lafitte,'  by 
Mr.  Ingraham,  a  professor  in  some  institution  of  learning  turned 
planter,  born  in  Maine,  and  living  at  Natchez,  with  whom  I  travelled 
two  days  in  a  stage-coach  in  Virginia,  and  did  not  find  very  agreeable; 
the  book  is  said  to  be  tolerable ;  and,  finally,  my  friend  Dunlap's 
novel  called  the  'Water  Drinker,'  of  which  I  have  heard  no  opinion. 
Of  course,  I  have  no  time  to  read  them.  Miss  Sedgwick  is  engaged 
in  publishing  a  work  in  continuation  of  the  little  book  called  '  Home.' 
1  Home '  is  her  most  popular  production  ;  five  or  six  editions  of  it  have 
gone  off;  it  was  published  at  Boston  ;  the  continuation  is  published 
here  by  the  Harpers.  I  have  read  Miss  Sedgwick's  'The  Linwoods ' 
since  I  came ;  it  is  interesting,  but  not  the  best  of  her  works  in  point 
of  talent  by  any  means.  Simms  *  is  here  for  the  purpose  of  publish 
ing  a  novel."  .  .  . 

Mr.  Bryant  had  returned  to  the  distractions  of  the  press 
with  reluctance  ;  and  the  plan  of  disposing  of  his  interest  in  it, 


*  Mr.  Gilmore  Simms,  of  South  Carolina,  writer  of  a  book  of  poems,  and  of  sev 
eral  popular  novels.     The  people  of  Charleston,  while  I  write,  are  erecting  a  monu 
ment  to  his  memory. 
VOL.  i. — 22 


322  THE  FIRST    VISIT   TO  EUROPE. 

alluded  to  above,  was  seriously  entertained.  In  September, 
1836,  he  wrote  to  his  brother  John  in  Illinois  to  look  out  for  a 
modest  home  for  him  in  the  West.  He  said : 

"  DEAR  BROTHER  :  I  think  of  making  some  disposition  of  my  in 
terest  in  the  *  Evening  Post '  and  coming  out  to  the  western  country 
with  a  few  thousand  dollars  to  try  my  fortune.  What  do  you  think  of 
such  a  plan  ?  What  could  I  do  next  summer  or  next  fall  with  a  little 
capital  of  from  three  to  five  thousand  dollars  ?  Will  you  write  me  at 
large  your  views  of  the  probability  of  my  success,  and  of  the  particu 
lar  modes  of  investment  which  would  yield  the  largest  profit  ?  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  I  might  make  money  as  fast  as  I  can  do  it  here, 
and  with  much  less  wear  and  tear  of  brains.  Write  me  fully,  but  do 
not  go  too  much  into  conjecture ;  speak  only  of  what  you  know,  or  of 
what  has  actually  happened.  I  have  not  been  much  pleased  since  my 
return  with  New  York.  The  entire  thoughts  of  the  inhabitants  seem 
to  be  given  to  the  acquisition  of  wealth ;  nothing  else  is  talked  of. 
The  city  is  dirtier  and  noisier,  and  more  uncomfortable,  and  dearer  to 
live  in,  than  it  ever  was  before.  I  have  had  my  fill  of  a  town  life,  and 
begin  to  wish  to  pass  a  little  time  in  the  country.  I  have  been  em 
ployed  long  enough  with  the  management  of  a  daily  newspaper,  and 
desire  leisure  for  literary  occupations  that  I  love  better.  It  was  not 
my  intention  when  I  went  to  Europe  to  return  to  the  business  of  con 
ducting  a  newspaper.  If  I  were  to  come  out  to  Illinois  next  spring 
with  the  design  of  passing  the  year  there,  what  arrangements  could  be 
made  for  my  family  ?  What  sort  of  habitation  could  I  have,  and  what 
would  it  cost?  I  hardly  think  I  shall  come  to  Illinois  to  live;  but  I 
can  tell  better  after  I  have  tried  it.  You  are  so  distant  from  all  the 
large  towns,  and  the  means  of  education  are  so  difficult  to  come  at, 
and  there  is  so  little  literary  society,  that  I  am  afraid  I  might  wish 
to  get  back  to  the  Atlantic  coast.  I  should  like,  however,  to  try  the 
experiment  of  a  year  at  the  West. 

"You  ask  whether  the  paper  is  doing  well.  I  found  affairs  in 
some  confusion  and  embarrassment  on  my  return,  in  consequence  of 
there  being  no  responsible  and  active  person  to  look  to  the  business 
part  of  the  establishment,  but  I  retrieved  them  shortly.  The  subscrip 
tion  also  had  diminished  somewhat  during  Mr.  Leggett's  illness,  but 
not  materially,  and  we  are  now  going  on  very  well  again.  Mr.  Leg- 


LOOKING    WESTWARD.  333 

gett  has  recovered,  and  returned  to  the  office  about  the  beginning  of 
this  month.  We  think  here  there  is  no  doubt  concerning  Mr.  Van 
Buren's  success — so  little  doubt,  indeed,  that  we  do  not  fret  ourselves 
much  with  electioneering.  He  is  certain  of  the  vote  of  this  State.* 

"  My  book  is  out.  It  contains  some  thirty  pages  more  than  the 
last  edition,  and  is  better  printed.  I  had  a  letter  from  my  wife  the 
other  day,  dated  August  2d.  She  was  still  at  Heidelberg.  She  had 
made  a  little  excursion  to  the  Rhine,  visited  Coblentz  and  Ems,  and 
some  other  watering-places. f  She  was  to  go  to  London  by  way  of 
Paris,  and  return  to  America  either  by  the  London  or  the  Liverpool 
packet.  It  is  very  likely  that  she  is  now  on  her  voyage. 

"  Mother  in  her  letter  to  me — her  first  letter — praised  the  health- 
fulness  of  the  situation.  It  seems  to  me,  however,  from  what  I  have 
learned  in  one  way  and  another,  that  bilious  fevers  are  considerably 
prevalent  among  you,  and  this  is  rather  a  bad  form  of  fever.  Whether 
your  being  without  physicians  is  much  disadvantage,  I  doubt.  Nat 
ure  is,  I  believe,  a  better  physician  than  most  of  the  physicians  whom 
we  call  in,  in  vain  reliance  on  what  we  suppose  to  be  their  superior 
knowledge.  The  practice  of  physic  is  here  undergoing  a  considerable 
revolution.  Physicians  begin  to  think  that  a  vast  many  patients  have 
been  drugged  out  of  the  world  within  the  last  fifty  years,  and  the  let- 
alone  system  is  becoming  fashionable.  I  am  so  far  a  convert  to  it 
that  I  distrust  a  physician  who  is  inclined  to  go  to  work  with  large 
quantities  of  medicine."  J 

*  As  a  candidate  for  the  Presidency, 
f  This  was  in  company  with  Mr.  Longfellow. 

\  He  was,  in  fact,  an  entire  convert  to  the  homoeopathic  methods,  to  which  he  ad 
hered  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 


CHAPTER   SEVENTEENTH. 

THE   RISE   OF  ABOLITIONISM. 
A.  D.    1836. 

IT  is  not  surprising  that  a  man  of  sensibility  should  en 
deavor  to  get  out  of  the  hurly-burly  of  politics.  Jackson's 
"  Experiments  upon  the  Currency,"  as  his  efforts  to  save  the 
Government  and  the  nation  from  a  deluge  of  paper  money 
were  called,  infused  new  acrimony  into  party  passions  by 
transferring  discussion  to  the  channels  of  trade.  There  can 
be  little  doubt  that  by  withholding  the  public  deposits  from 
the  federal  bank,  and  scattering  them  among  a  multitude  of 
local  banks,  the  Government  had  encouraged  a  vast  ex 
pansion  of  credit,  which,  with  other  causes,  produced  an  ex 
tremely  florid  but  factitious  prosperity,  shown  in  all  sorts  of 
extravagant  speculations.  "  No  scheme,"  said  the  "  Evening 
Post,"  "  seems  too  vast  to  stagger  popular  credulity.  Plans 
the  most  impracticable  are  received  as  easy  of  accomplish 
ment,  and  entered  upon  with  undoubting  confidence.  The 
thought  obtrudes  itself  apparently  into  no  man's  mind  that 
there  is  a  stopping-place  for  all  this  motion,  or  that  the  ma 
chine,  urged  to  too  great  a  velocity,  will  at  last  fall  to  pieces. 
No  one  seems  to  anticipate  that  there  must  come  a  time 
when  the  towering  fabric  which  speculation  is  building  up, 
grown  too  huge  for  its  foundations,  will  topple  on  the  heads 
of  its  projectors  and  bury  them  in  its  ruins."  To  rebuke 
a  frenzy  at  its  height,  by  predicting  a  collapse,  is  always 
dangerous,  and  the  "  Evening  Post  "  incurred  no  little  odium 


WAR    UPON  CORPORATIONS. 


325 


in  consequence.  Hut  that  was  not  its  worst  offence.  Be 
sides  denying  the  utility  of  the  national  bank,  it  questioned 
whether  special  banking  corporations  of  any  sort  were  com 
patible  with  the  best  interests  of  society.  The  business  of 
trading  in  money,  it  maintained,  was  like  every  other  busi 
ness,  and  ought  to  be  permitted  on  the  same  conditions  as 
any  other  business.  Special  charters  for  such  purposes  arc 
an  invasion  of  the  equal  rights  of  the  people,  inasmuch  as 
they  create  a  class  distinguished  from  others  by  peculiar 
privileges.* 

A  small  number  of  persons  went  with  the  journal  in  these 
opinions,  but  much  the  larger  number,  even  of  its  democratic 
allies,  regarded  them  as  an  assault  upon  existing  institutions, 
created  by  State  authority,  and  they  denounced  the  promul- 
gators  of  them  as  enemies  of  vested  rights  and  supporters  of  a 
disguised  agrarianism.  This  was  an  exaggeration  of  igno- 

*  Mr.  Bryant  and  Mr.  Leggett  confined  their  editorial  opposition  to  acts  of  spe 
cial  incorporation,  but  they  seem,  both  of  them,  to  have  perceived,  much  in  advance 
of  others,  the  evils  likely  to  flow  from  the  very  principle  of  incorporation  for  trading 
purposes.  They  had  no  objection  to  the  simple  association  of  men  for  trading  pur 
poses,  but  they  were  unwilling  that  such  associations  should  derive  any  peculiar 
character  or  privilege  from  the  law.  They  saw  the  old  contest  between  Power 
and  Freedom  here  revived — but  revived,  strange  to  say,  in  the  name  of  freedom. 
Shall  not  men  be  free,  it  was  asked,  to  combine  their  efforts  and  their  resources  in 
joint  enterprises  for  their  own  good?  Certainly,  the  Locofocos  replied — but  then 
they  must  combine  as  individuals,  without  requiring  the  State  to  give  them  any 
guarantees  and  immunities  in  their  corporate  capacity.  The  immense  advantages  to 
be  derived  from  the  organized  concentration  of  wealth,  talent,  and  industry  in  bank 
ing,  railroading,  manufacturing,  etc.,  they  did  not  deny  ;  but  they  held  that  these 
combinations  should  never  be  allowed  to  absorb  their  individual  members  in  the 
general  and  abstract  whole — which  had,  in  the  slang  of  the  day,  "nobody  to  be 
kicked  nor  soul  to  be  damned."  Have  not  the  developments  of  time  justified  their 
fears?  Incorporations  have  conferred  prodigious  maternal  benefits  upon  the  nation  ; 
but  are  they  not  the  masters  of  the  nation? — the  modern  Frankensteins  which  have 
got  the  better  of  their  creators?  Are  not  the  great  railroad,  banking,  and  insurance 
companies  more  powerful  than  the  State?  Have  they  not  forced  upon  us  the 
•ion,  whether  the  State  shall  assume  control  of  these  corporations,  thereby 
dangerously  augmenting  its  powers,  or  whether  the  masses  of  the  people  shall 
not  interfere  in  a  way  not  very  satisfactory  to  the  best  interests  of  public  stability 
a/ul  order. 


326  THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM. 

ranee  and  fear,  for  in  a  few  years  the  reasonableness  of  the 
"  Evening  Post's "  position  was  acknowledged,  and  became 
so  apparent  that,  in  1838,  a  general  banking  law  was  passed 
by  the  Legislature  of  New  York,  the  principle  of  which 
has  since  been  adopted  in  our  national  banking  system, 
whose  friends  extol  it  as  among  the  best,  if  not  the  best,  in 
the  world. 

Among  the  minor  topics  which  the  "  Evening  Post "  treated 
in  a  way  to  augment  its  unpopularity  were  inspection,  con 
spiracy,  and  usury  laws.  Enactments  requiring  the  inspection 
by  public  authority  of  products  offered  for  sale — tobacco, 
flour,  beef,  pork,  salt,  etc. — remained  on  the  statute  books, 
which  needlessly  enlarged  the  powers  of  the  Government  by 
the  creation  of  swarms  of  office-holders — political  janisaries— 
who  interfered  in  elections  and  otherwise  controlled  the  free 
action  of  the  people.  By  the  decisions  of  the  courts  also 
it  had  been  determined  that  agreements  among  workingmen 
to  fix  rates  of  wages  were  conspiracies  against  trade,  and  sev 
eral  persons  had  been  prosecuted  and  condemned  in  conse 
quence  in  different  parts  of  the  State.  The  "  Evening  Post  " 
regarded  such  laws  as  violations  of  individual  rights,  and  it 
battled  against  them  with  great  energy.  It  had  the  satisfac 
tion,  sooner  or  later,  of  seeing  them  all  swept  from  the  codes, 
with  the  exception  of  the  usury  laws,  relics  of  mediaeval  igno 
rance,  which,  although  abolished  in  Massachusetts  and  other 
more  enlightened  New  England  States,  are  still  in  force  in 
New  York. 

The  dispute  in  regard  to  corporations  before  it  was  settled 
occasioned  a  great  division  in  the  Democratic  Republican 
party  of  New  York,  which  extended  to  other  parts  of  the 
Union.  Those  of  its  members  who  held  to  strict  constitutional 
notions,  with  the  mass  of  the  young  men,  adopted  the  doc 
trines  maintained  by  the  "  Evening  Post,"  while  the  older  men, 
and  particularly  such  as  were  attached  by  personal  interest  to 
the  existing  system,  and  the  timid,  who  fear  all  changes  be 
cause  they  do  not  see  the  consequences,  arranged  themselves 


F.XCOMMUNICA  TED.  327 

on  the  other  side.  The  strife  grew  more  and  more  impassioned 
every  day,  despite  the  anxiety  of  those  who  desired  to  com 
promise — "  to  keep  the  party  together,"  as  the  phrase  went — 
by  reconciling  the  extremes.  No  adjustment  could  be  effected, 
the  factions  fell  apart,  and  the  journal  which  was  so  largely 
instrumental  in  bringing  about  the  split  was  visited  with  the 
obloquy  that  always  falls  upon  instigators  of  revolt  in  an  or 
ganized  camp. 

The  "  official  gazette "  at  Washington,  speaking  for  the 
general  Administration,  solemnly  excommunicated  it  as  heter 
odox  in  faith  and  a  worker  of  mischief  in  practice.  The 
organs  of  the  State  Administration  were  no  less  explicit  and 
exclusive  in  their  denunciations  ;  and  the  Tammany  Hall  Com 
mittee,  which  controlled  the  political  movements  of  the  city, 
refused  to  recognize  it  any  longer  as  belonging  to  the  true 
church.  Only  a  small  number  adhered  to  its  fortunes,  com 
posed  chiefly  of  workingmen,  who  saw  in  the  great  corporations 
their  active  enemies  and  oppressors,  and  enthusiastic  young 
men,  ardent  doctrinarians,  whose  generous  impulses  were  not 
yet  benumbed  by  contact  with  the  cold  business  of  life.* 
The  recalcitrants  came  to  be  kno\vn  in  the  phrase  of  the  day 
as  Locofocos,  because  of  an  attempt  they  had  made  to  get 
possession  of  Tammany  Hall,  the  Democratic  head-quarters. 
A  public  meeting  having  been  called  in  that  place,  they  packed 
the  room  at  an  early  hour;  but  their  opponents  found  it  out, 
and  turned  off  the  gas  which  supplied  the  building,  in  the  hope 
of  leaving  them  in  total  darkness.  But  they  were  prepared 
for  the  emergency,  and  pulling  the  recently  invented  matches, 
known  as  Locofocos,  with  some  candles,  out  of  their  pockets, 
they  continued  the  proceedings. 

These  agitations  were  natural  among  a  people  enjoying 
full  and  free  political  life.  Fierce,  disturbing,  bitter  as  they 
were,  they  could  and  would  be  settled  in  the  end  by  the 


*  At  the  election  for  Mayor  in  1836  they  gave  a  vote  of  2,712  out  of  a  total  vote 
of  more  than  26,000. 


328  THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM. 

ballot-box.  But  there  was  another  question  far  more  formi 
dable,  to  which  the  ballot-box  might  not  be  competent ;  it 
hovered  now  as  a  storm-cloud  on  the  horizon,  "  its  lightnings 
sheathed,  its  thunders  silent,  but  gathering  with  every  moment 
angrier  force  and  more  appalling  fury"  —  the  question  of 
slavery.  The  democratic  press  might  have  forgiven  the  vaga 
ries  and  excesses  of  the  "  Evening  Post "  on  subjects  of  com 
merce  and  currency,  and  condoned  its  refusal  to  march  to  the 
music  of  party,  if  it  had  stopped  there ;  but  it  did  not.  It  was 
lending  a  more  or  less  eager  ear  to  a  new  and  hateful  sect, 
called  "  The  Abolitionists."  "  It  openly  and  systematically," 
screamed  the  official  organ,  with  horror  in  its  face,  "  encourages 
those  miscreants."* 

Ever  since  the  origin  of  the  Government  slavery  had  been 
our  skeleton  in  the  closet. '  Some  of  us  tried  to  persuade  our 
selves  that  it  was  no  skeleton,  but  a  form  of  heavenly  beauty ; 
and  others,  who  had  their  misgivings,  were  for  the  most  part 
too  cowardly  to  utter  them ;  or,  if  they  did  utter  them,  it  was 
in  secret  and  with  bated  breath.  At  length  a  set  of  simple- 
hearted  men  arose,  who  said  plainly  that  it  was  a  skeleton,  and 
a  gigantic  one,  and,  what  was  more,  that  it  ought  to  be  taken 
from  the  closet  and  instantly  buried  forever  out  of  sight. 

In  1832  they  formed  the  New  England  Anti-Slavery  So 
ciety  ;  a  year  later  the  City  Anti-Slavery  Society,  of  New 
York  ;  and  finally  the  American  Anti-Slavery  Society.  The 
sentiment  embodied  in  these  associations  rose  like  the  Afrite 
of  the  Eastern  tale,  which,  springing  out  of  a  bottle — a  small 
ink-bottle  in  this  case — swelled  so  rapidly  that  the  whole 
welkin  was  filled  by  its  monstrous  shape.  Of  course  the 
South,  where  slavery  existed,  took  alarm,  and  the  North,  com 
mercially  allied  to  the  South,  was  scarcely  less  terrified. 
Here  were  men  who,  believing  in  the  old  religious  dogma 
that  all  sin  is  to  be  repented  of  at  once,  asserted  that  slav 
ery  was  sin,  and  ought  to  be  immediately  and  uncondition- 

*  "  Washington  Globe,"  September  18,  1835. 


POPULAR    VIOLENCE.  329 

ally  abandoned.  It  is  impossible,  at  this  day,  to  conceive  the 
tempest  of  indignation  and  hatred  that  greeted  their  first  ap 
pearance.  Their  meetings  were  broken  up,  their  lecturers 
stoned,  their  schools  dispersed,  their  homes  set  on  fire,  and 
their  more  conspicuous  leaders  hunted  from  town  to  town, 
with  a  price  upon  their  heads.  Not  in  the  great  cities  alone, 
with  their  excitable  and  turbid  populations,  but  in  quiet  New 
England  villages,  the  mob  assumed  the  upper  hand,  and  con 
ceived  itself  chartered  to  commit  any  sort  of  outrage  upon 
these  innovators.  The  magistrates,  sworn  defenders  of  public 
order,  were  powerless  against  it,  because  they  shared  its  pas 
sions  and  approved  its  doings.  The  rights  of  a  free  press,  of 
free  speech,  of  free  assemblage,  went  down  before  its  clamors 
and  violence,  yet  they  closed  their  eyes  to  the  crime,  while  the 
respectable  classes  clapped  their  hands,  and  the  churches  sang 

:tms. 

In  the  earlier  days  of  this  agitation,  neither  Mr.  Bryant  nor 
Mr.  Leggett  was  disposed  to  take  part  in  it.  In  common  with 
nearly  all  the  people  of  the  North,  and  with  many  of  those  of 
the  South,  as  recent  debates  in  the  Virginia  House  of  Delegates 
after  the  bloody  insurrection  of  slaves  under  Nat.  Turner 
proved,*  they  cherished  the  delusion  that  slavery,  though  an 
unmitigated  evil,  was  in  the  process  of  extinction.  Human 
reason  and  the  sense  of  justice,  they  thought,  would  gradually 
alleviate  its  abuses,  while  the  rapid  material  advances  of  the 
nation,  rendering  it  unprofitable  as  a  mode  of  industry,  and 
more  and  more  feeble  as  a  political  and  social  force,  would 
ultimately  reduce  it  to  nothingness,  as  in  the  Northern  States. 
Besides,  as  strict  constructionists  of  the  power  of  the  general 
Government,  they  held  that  only  municipal  law  could  properly 
deal  with  what  they  regarded  as  an  exclusively  municipal 
institution.  But  they  were  never  perverted  by  their  political 
tendencies  and  alliances  into  that  tortuous  morality  which 
justified  inaction  within  the  States,  or  which  denied  to  citizens 

*  These  were  published  at  length  in  the  "  Evening  Post" 


330  THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM. 

of  the  free  States  the  right  to  subject  the  system  to  criticism, 
remonstrance,  and  rebuke. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  aspects  in  which  emancipation 
was  first  presented  were  not  of  a  kind  to  allure  the  co-opera 
tion  of  sober  and  moderate  minds.  One  speaks  with  reluctance 
at  this  day  of  the  errors  of  men  who,  actuated  by  the  most 
generous  sympathies,  confronted  hatred,  contempt,  suffering, 
and  death,  in  a  work  which  time  has  crowned  and  consecrated 
by  a  glorious  consummation.  But  history  declares  that  a 
great  deal  of  the  obloquy  which  befel  the  early  Abolition 
ists  was  provoked  by  their  own  overwrought  zeal.  In  their 
devotion  to  the  divinest  and  highest  of  all  truths  —  human 
freedom  —  they  sometimes  overlooked  the  lesser  truths  by 
which  it  is  best  recommended.  They  did  not  always  cherish 
the  gentleness  and  sweetness  which  are  the  inmost  essence 
of  wisdom,  and  among  its  most  effective  weapons.  Rightly 
indignant  at  the  indifference  and  sordidness  of  the  public 
conscience,  they  were  too  apt  to  denounce,  with  intemperate 
severity,  all  who  did  not  at  once  accord  with  them  in  senti 
ment,  both  as  to  their  objects  and  their  methods — although 
those  objects  were  not  clearly  defined  by  themselves,  and 
their  methods  but  imperfectly  apprehended  by  the  people. 
No  institution  of  Church  or  State  seemed  to  be  sacred  in 
their  eyes  so  long  as  Church  and  State  tolerated  or  refused 
to  move  .in  active  aggression  against  a  social  anomaly  so 
widely  pernicious,  so  flagitiously  sustained ;  and  they  flung 
their  battle-axes  into  the  ancient  structures,  little  heeding 
where  they  fell. 

For  this  reason  many  persons  looked  upon  them  rather 
as  the  enemies  of  order  than  as  the  friends  of  the  slave. 
They  might,  perhaps,  have  remained  for  a  long  time — what 
they  were  in  the  beginning — an  obscure  and  despised  sect, 
but  for  the  frenzy  of  the  South,  which  insisted  upon  their 
extirpation,  not  by  law  only,  but  by  violence ;  the  intrigues 
of  Northern  party  leaders,  eager  to  conciliate  the  South  by 
any  degrading  compliance ;  and  the  cowardice  of  the  trad- 


LEGGETTS  ZEAL.  33 ! 

ing  classes,  whose  tills  were  menaced  by  the  withdrawal  of 
Southern  patronage.  All  these  combined  in  the  demand  for 
the  most  despotic  supprcssive  legislation  and  in  fomenting 
the  malignant  passions  of  the  populace.  They,  however,  over 
shot  the  mark.  The  North  was  yielding  and  it  was  trucu 
lent,  but  it  was  not  wholly  debased.  Men  of  courage  and  con 
viction  were  still  left,  who  were  unwilling  to  see  the  rights 
of  citizens  trampled  in  the  drtst,  or  extinguished  in  blood,  to 
save  the  interests  of  a  class  which,  at  best,  but  represented  an 
atrocious  and  cruel  wrong.  Mr.  Bryant  and  Mr.  Leggett  were 
among  them.  Few  as  the  Abolitionists  were  in  number,  feeble 
in  power,  offensive  as  they  had  made  themselves  by  indiscre 
tion  and  arrogance  of  speech,  they  were  only  using  the  dearest 
rights  of  free  men  in  defence  of  imperilled  humanity,  and  the 
"  Evening  Post "  raised  its  voice  in  their  behalf.  It  condemned 
the  violence  of  the  mob  and  the  indifference  of  the  authorities, 
and  it  opened  its  columns  to  an  unfettered  discussion  of  the 
real  character  and  dangerous  influences  of  the  so-called  "  do 
mestic  institution." 

During  Mr.  Bryant's  absence  in  Europe,  Leggett  had  been 
unsparing  in  his  denunciations  of  the  action  of  the  Govern 
ment  in  authorizing  a  violation  of  the  mails  by  the  postmasters 
on  the  pretext  of  discovering  incendiary  publications.  He 
had  been  no  less  earnest  in  his  defence  of  the  rights  of  free 
speech  and  of  petition.  The  country  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
bitter  contest  when  Mr.  Bryant  returned.  Congress  in  both 
branches  had  decreed  that  no  remonstrance  against  slavery  in 
the  District  of  Columbia,  no  demands  for  its  removal,  should 
be  received ;  the  venerable  John  Quincy  Adams  in  the  House 
of  Representatives  was  waging  a  stubborn,  invincible  war  for 
the  right  of  the  constituent  to  be  heard ;  and  even  churches, 
moved  to  their  depths,  were  about  to  be  split  asunder  by 
a  debate  which  should  never  have  arisen  among  the  disciples 
of  the  Son  of  God.  Mr.  Bryant,  in  his  treatment  of  the  matter, 
was  more  subdued  and  suasive  than  Leggett,  but  none  the  less 
decided.  His  position  and  tone  may  be  learned  from  the  fol- 


332  THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM. 

lowing  remarks  on  the  speech  of  a  Mr.  Tallmadge  in  Con 
gress: 

"  Mr.  Tallmadge  has  done  well  in  vindicating  the  right  of  indi 
viduals  to  address  Congress  on  any  matter  within  its  province — a 
right  springing  from  the  nature  of  our  institutions,  and  never  denied 
till  now.  For  this  we  thank  him.  This  is  something,  at  a  time  when 
the  Governor  of  one  State  demands  of  another  that  free  discussion  on 
a  particular  subject  shall  be  made  a  crime  by  law,  and  when  a  Senator 
of  the  Republic,  and  a  pretended  champion  of  liberty,  rises  in  his 
place  and  proposes  a  censorship  of  the  press  more  servile,  more 
tyrannical,  more  arbitrary  than  subsists  in  any  other  country.  It  is  a 
prudent  counsel  also  that  Mr.  Tallmadge  gives  to  the  South — to  be 
ware  of  increasing  the  zeal,  of  swelling  the  ranks  and  multiplying  the 
friends,  of  the  Abolitionists  by  attempting  to  exclude  them  from  the 
common  rights  of  citizens.  For  this  counsel  he  deserves  the  thanks 
of  the  South.  Yet  it  seems  to  us  that  Mr.  Tallmadge,  who,  on  other 
occasions,  has  shown  himself  not  to  be  wanting  in  boldness  and  free 
dom  of  speech,  might  have  gone  a  little  further.  It  seems  to  us  that 
the  occasion  demanded  that  he  should  have  protested  with  somewhat 
more  energy  and  zeal  against  the  attempt  to  shackle  the  expression 
of  opinion.  It  is  no  time  to  use  honeyed  words  when  the  liberty  of 
speech  is  endangered.  In  vindicating  the  North  from  the  charge  of 
sharing  in  the  designs  of  the  Abolitionists,  he  might  have  deplored  and 
condemned,  in  the  strongest  terms,  the  excesses  to  which  the  people 
of  the  North  have  been  led  by  a  fanatical  hatred  of  that  party.  He 
has  shown  how  the  rival  parties  eagerly  sought  to  clear  their  skirts 
from  the  stain  of  abolitionism;  but,  instead  of  representing  this  spirit 
as  in  all  respects  laudable,  he  should  have  added  with  what  a  wolfish 
rage  they  fell  upon  a  small  association  of  benevolent  and  disinterested 
enthusiasts,  and  discharged  the  coarse  fury  of  party  spirit  upon 
those  whose  only  fault  was  to  maintain  and  seek  to  propagate  opinions 
which  thousands  of  benevolent  men  had  maintained  and  expressed 
before  them,  not  only  in  our  own,  but  in  all  countries  of  the  globe. 
He  might  have  added  how,  in  this  very  city,  the  law  had  been  violated 
by  a  postmaster  erecting  himself  into  a  censor  of  the  press,  and  re 
fusing  the  aid  of  the  mail  in  conveying  publications  which  he  deemed 
objectionable.  He  should  have  condemned  those  acts  of  violence 


A  PERSONAL   REMIXISCENCE.  333 

and  tumult  which  made  the  friends  of  despotism  abroad  to  exult,  and 
which  covered  with  shame  the  faces  of  those  who  were  looking  to  our 
country  as  a  glorious  example  of  the  certainty  with  which  good  order 
and  respect  for  personal  rights  are  the  fruits  of  free  political  institu 
tions.  There  should  be  no  compromise  with  those  who  deny  the 
freedom  of  debate  within  or  without  the  walls  of  Congress,  in  conver 
sation,  at  public  meetings,  or  by  means  of  the  press.  If  the  tyranni 
cal  doctrines  and  measures  of  Mr.  Calhoun  can  be  carried  into  effect, 
there  is  an  end  of  liberty  in  this  country ;  but  carried  into  effect  they 
cannot  be.  It  is  too  late  an  age  to  copy  the  policy  of  Henry  VIII ; 
we  lie  too  far  in  the  Occident  to  imitate  the  despotic  rule  of  Austria. 
The  spirit  of  our  people  has  been  too  long  accustomed  to  freedom  to 
bear  the  restraint  which  is  sought  to  be  put  upon  it.  Discussion  will 
be  like  the  Greek  fire,  which  blazed  the  fiercer  for  the  water  thrown 
to  quench  it.  It  will  scorn  the  penalties  of  tyrannical  laws;  and  if 
the  stake  be  set  and  the  faggots  ready,  there  will  be  candidates  for 
martyrdom."  * 

Thus  day  after  day  the  "Evening  Post"  uttered  its  senti 
ments,  in  the  face  of  a  hostile  public  prejudice  ;  but,  while  it 
s;i\\*  its  own  fortunes  crumbling  about  it,  it  was  only  the  more 
fixed  in  its  devotion  to  what  it  deemed  the  highest  good  of 
the  Republic. 


It  was  during  these  fierce  conflicts,  shortly  after  Mr. 
Bryant's  return  from  Europe,  that  chance  made  me  acquainted 
with  him  ;  and  this  is,  perhaps,  the  best  place  in  which  to  refer 
to  the  incident,  as  it  will  explain  to  my  readers  how  I  am  able 
to  speak  of  him  henceforth  from  personal  knowledge.  A 
briefless  barrister  in  the  great  city,  I  had  been  led  to  a  modest 
boarding-house  at  No.  316  Fourth  Street,  where  for  some  time 
I  was  almost  the  only  inmate.  But  one  evening,  on  entering 
the  common  room,  the  owner,  a  native  of  Great  Barrington, 
introduced  me  to  a  gentleman,  whose  name  I  did  not  hear,  as 

*  "  Evening  Post,"  April  21,  1836. 


334  THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM. 

about  to  become  a  member  of  our  small  and  select  family.  He 
was  of  middle  age  and  medium  height,  spare  in  figure,  with  a 
clean-shaven  face,  unusually  large  head,  bright  eyes,  and  a 
wearied,  severe,  almost  saturnine  expression  of  countenance. 
One,  however,  remarked  at  once  the  exceeding  gentleness  of  his 
manner,  and  a  rare  sweetness  in  the  tone  of  his  voice,  as  well 
as  an  extraordinary  purity  in  his  selection  and  pronunciation 
of  English.  His  conversation  was  easy,  but  not  fluent,  and  he 
had  a  habit  of  looking  the  person  he  addressed  so  directly  in 
the  eyes  that  it  was  not  a  little  embarrassing  at  first.  A  cer 
tain  air  of  abstractedness  in  his  face  made  you  set  him  down 
as  a  scholar  whose  thoughts  were  wandering  away  to  his 
books ;  and  yet  the  deep  lines  about  the  mouth  told  of  struggle 
either  with  himself  or  with  the  world.  No  one  would  have 
supposed  that  there  was  any  fun  in  him,  but,  when  a  lively 
turn  was  given  to  some  remark,  the  upper  part  of  his  face, 
particularly  the  eyes,  gleamed  with  a  singular  radiance,  and  a 
short,  quick,  staccato,  but  hearty  laugh  acknowledged  the 
humorous  perception.  It  was  scarcely  acknowledged,  how 
ever,  before  the  face  settled  down  again  into  its  habitual 
sternness.  Of  public  affairs  this  gentleman  spoke  with 
great  decision — as  one  who  thoroughly  comprehended  them, 
and  had  no  fear  of  the  ultimate  issues.  I  was  not  told, 
until  he  had  gone,  that  this  was  Mr.  Bryant,  the  poet  and 
journalist. 

He  was  for  some  weeks  in  the  house  before  I  saw  him 
again,  going  very  early  in  the  morning  to  his  office,  taking 
long  solitary  walks  in  the  afternoon,  and  confining  himself  to 
his  room  in  the  evenings.  On  Sunday  one  managed  to  get  a 
little  talk  with  him,  which,  though  he  was  courteous  when  ap 
proached,  he  neither  invited  nor  repelled.  He  was  always  a 
patient  listener,  but  seldom  initiated  any  topic.  His  greeting 
of  strangers  was  cold  and  formal,  and  he  never  stopped  to 
prolong  a  conversation.  As  soon  as  the  immediate  subject  of 
remark  was  despatched  he  turned  away  to  his  own  musings. 
Once  or  twice,  I  think,  he  asked  me  of  his  own  accord  to  stroll 


MR.    fiKYAXT  AV  PRIVATE. 


333 


with  him  in  the  open  fields,  now  the  upper  part  of  the  city, 
but  even  in  these  rambles  he  preserved  a  singular  reticence. 
The  only  observation  of  the  time  I  now  recall  related  to 
Jones's  Wood,  on  the  East  River,  which,  he  insisted  with  much 
earnestness,  should  be  reserved  as  a  place  of  recreation  and 
amusement.  "  In  a  few  years,"  he  said,  "  the  city  will  have 
grown  up  beyond  this,  and  then  it  will  be  too  late."  *  His 
love  of  trees  and  flowers  was  obvious,  and,  as  he  looked  upon 
them,  he  would  murmur  to  himself  some  appropriate  verses, 
such  as  John  Mason  Good's  lines  to  the  Daisy, 

"  Not  worlds  on  worlds  in  phalanx  deep 
Need  we  to  tell  that  God  is  here,"  f 

or  Burns's  address  to  the  same  flower,  or  a  line  or  two  from 
Wordsworth. 

When  his  family,  consisting  of  his  wife  and  two  young 
daughters,  came  back  from  Europe,  in  the  autumn  of  1836,  he 
showed  himself  more  sociable.  Mrs.  Bryant  was  a  person  of 
such  lively  sympathies,  and  so  breezy  a  cheerfulness,  that  she 
seemed  to  inspire  him,  as  she  did  others,  with  some  of  her  own 
animation.  He  became  chatty  and  playful,  but  never  familiar. 
Even  in  telling  a  story  or  anecdote  he  maintained  his  reserve, 
which  seemed  to  say,  Do  not  presume  upon  it  if  I  deign  to 
jest  with  you.  His  children,  of  whom  he  was  fond,  he  treated 
with  great  consideration  and  tenderness,  but  he  always  exacted 
their  obedience.  He  prattled  with  them  commonly  in  the 
foreign  language  which  they  happened  to  be  learning,  and  he 
amused  them  and  himself  very  much  by  turning  the  old 
nursery  rhymes  or  the  popular  songs  of  the  day  into  the 
idioms  of  France,  Germany,  Spain,  or  Italy. 

Knowing  his  fame  as  a  poet,  I  was  surprised  to  observe 

*  lie  afterward  took  up  this  subject  in  his  journal,  and  persisted  in  writing  about 
it  until  public  interest  was  awakened  in  it,  and  our  fine  Central  Park  was  the  result. 

f  He  was  apparently  very  fond  of  these  lines,  and  he  repeated  them  very  often  to 
friends  with  whom  he  walked. 


336  THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM. 

how  few  habitual  visitors  he  seemed  to  have.  His  acquaint 
ance  with  the  artists  he  preserved  by  means  of  the  Sketch 
Club,  and  I  learned  that  Cooper  and  Halleck,  and  some  of  the 
more  prominent  politicians — Dix,  Marcy,  Wright,  Flagg,  B.  F. 
Butler,  and  a  young  man  named  Tilden — paid  their  respects 
to  him  at  the  office ;  but  none  of  them  came  to  the  house. 
General  society  he  avoided,  and,  though  he  had  written  for 
his  fellow  New-Englanders  of  the  New  England  Society  the 
lines  on  "  The  Twenty-second  of  December," 

"  Wild  was  the  day ;  the  wintry  sea 
Moaned  sadly  on  New  England's  strand,"1 

he  seldom  or  never  shared  in  their  jollifications,  or  sought  their 
companionship.  Joseph  Curtis,  the  earnest  advocate  of  free 
schools, f  Isaac  T.  Hopper,  the  Quaker  philanthropist,  and 
George  Arnold,  the  Unitarian  Minister  to  the  Poor,  occasionally 
sought  him  out,  and  counselled  with  him ;  but  otherwise  he 
lived  alone. 

This  seclusion  was  due  partly  to  choice  and  partly  to  the 
exacting  nature  of  his  professional  labors,  but  largely  also  to 
the  fact  that  his  political  opinions  involved  him  in  a  mist,  if 
not  a  cloud,  of  prejudices  and  dislikes.  The  more  opulent  and 
cultivated  classes  of  the  city  were  "  Whigs,"  who  detested 
Democrats  as  agrarians  and  levellers.  Even  the  most  charita 
ble  among  them  found  it  difficult  to  understand  how  a  gentle 
man  of  education  and  refinement,  impelled  by  no  craving  for 
office  or  leadership,  could  take  the  side  of  an  unkempt  and  un 
washed  multitude,  whose  popular  name  of  Locofocos  was  sup 
posed  to  indicate  their  inflammatory  character.  Mr.  Bryant 
was  not,  however,  very  much  disturbed  by  this  mild  social 
ostracism  ;  his  sources  of  happiness  lay  in  himself,  and  in  that 
noble  companionship  of  books,  "  which  never  come  unduly  and 


*  For  the  anniversary  dinner  of  1829. 
\  See  his  Life,  by  Miss  Sedgwick. 


OSTRACISED  BY  RESPECTABILITY. 


337 


never  stay  too  long";  while  his  estimate  of  himself  was  too 
modest  to  exact  personal  homages.* 

But  he  would  have  been  more  than  man  if  he  had  been 
wholly  insensible  to  the  vituperations  which  the  party  news 
papers  showered  upon  him — a  scurrility  which  our  best  and 
purest  men  have  been  exposed  to  and  have  affected  to  disre 
gard  ;  but  to  which  no  man,  however  conscious  of  rectitude,  is 
wholly  inured.  Mr.  Bryant  never  replied  to  such  abuse  ;  he 
never  even  complained  of  it  in  conversation ;  but  that  he  felt 
it  is  clear  from  his  poem  of  "  The  Battle  Field,"  written  at 
this  time,  which  refers  to 

"  A  friendless  warfare !  lingering  long 

Through  weary  day  and  weary  year, 
A  wild  and  many-weaponed  throng, 

Hang  on  thy  flank,  and  front,  and  rear."  \ 

Our  little  family  in  Fourth  Street  was  gradually  enlarged 
by  that  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Dewey,  by  Mr.  Ferdinand  Field,  a 
relative  of  Charles  Lamb's  Baron  Field,  and  by  others.  Call 
ers  became  more  frequent ;  among  them  were  Mrs.  Jameson, 
on  her  sad  voyage  to  Canada,  £  and  Miss  Sedgwick,  ever 
beaming  with  intelligence  and  goodness.  The  latter  was 

*  Yet  he  had  too  much  self-respect  to  be  wholly  indifferent  to  the  mode  in  which 
he  was  treated  by  "good  society."  I  remember  in  1842,  when  Charles  Dickens  was 
here,  Mr.  Bryant  was  invited  by  a  prominent  citizen  to  meet  him  at  dinner,  but  de 
clined.  "  That  man,"  he  said  to  me,  "  has  known  me  for  years,  without  asking  me 
to  his  house,  and  I  am  not  now  going  to  be  made  a  stool-pigeon,  to  attract  birds  of 
passage  that  may  be  flying  about." 

f  "Democratic  Review,"  October,  1837.  The  stanza  in  this  poem,  beginning, 
"  Truth  crushed  to  earth  will  rise  again,"  which  everybody  knows  from  the  frequency 
with  which  it  has  been  repeated,  was  first  quoted  by  the  late  Benjamin  F.  Butler, 
Attorney-General  under  Jackson  and  Van  Buren,  in  a  speech  made  in  Tammany 
Hall.  As  he  closed,  a  voice  of  unmistakable  brogue  shouted  out,  "  Hurrah  for 
Shakespeare  !  "  "  No,"  responded  Mr.  Butler,  "  not  Shakespeare,  but  a  pupil  of 
his  in  the  school  of  Nature  and  truth — our  own  Bryant,"  when  the  building  rang 
v  ith  cheer  on  cheer. 

;  See  "  Memoirs  of  Anna  Jameson." 
VOL.  i. — 23 


338  THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM. 

deeply  interested  at  that  time  in  the  Italian  prisoners  of  State 
recently  exiled,  and  she  found  in  Mr.  Bryant  a  ready  coad 
jutor.  He  busied  himself  in  getting  up  a  public  dinner  to  the 
Count  Confalonieri,  the  most  notable  of  the  victims  of  des 
potism,  who  was  yet  too  much  a  sufferer  from  long  incarcera 
tion  to  be  able  to  accept  the  attention.*  The  noble  old  man, 
Felix  Foresti — who,  after  sixteen  years  of  the  dungeon,  still 
carried  with  him  the  freshness  and  simplicity  of  youth — re 
joiced  in  his  friendship  ;  and  others — Piero  Maroncelli,  the  com 
panion  of  Silvio  Pellico,f  Albinola,  Tenelli,  Argenti — shared  in 
his  active  sympathies.  Miss  Sedgwick  made  him  acquainted 
also  with  Dr.  Follen,  to  whom  a  slighting  allusion  occurs  in 
one  of  his  letters,  J  but  whose  erudition,  talent,  and  disinter 
estedness  he  quickly  learned  to  prize.  No  one  of  the  acquaint 
ances  of  that  time,  however,  was  more  endeared  to  him  than 
Miss  Eliza  Robbins,  an  elderly  unmarried  sister  of  his  father's 
friends,  Mrs.  Howe  and  Mrs.  Lyman.  She  was  a  person  of 
extraordinary  intellectual  endowments,  engaged  in  the  teach 
ing  of  young  women  at  their  homes  or  in  the  public  schools, 
and  the  writer  of  several  school-books  of  great  utility.  Her 
knowledge  was  varied  and  accurate,  particularly  in  the  line  of 
old  English  literature,  and  her  ability  to  converse  surpassed  that 
of  any  person  that  I  ever  heard,  reminding  me  of  what  I  had  read 
of  the  wonderful  powers  in  that  respect  of  Burke,  Madame 
De  Stael,  and  Coleridge.  Her  talk,  indeed,  was  a  continuous 
and  full  stream  of  narrative,  argument,  criticism,  anecdote, 
and  pathos.  "  I  called  to  see  Miss  Robbins,"  writes  Miss  Sedg 
wick,  in  one  of  her  letters,  "  on  my  way  home.  She  lamented 
her  brother's  death  (Governor  Robbins,  of  Boston)  with  the 
eloquence  of  an  old  Hebrew.  If  your  eyes  were  shut,  you 
might  fancy  that  it  was  a  supplemental  chapter  of  Job.  I 
thought  I  should  have  remembered  some  of  it,  but  I  might  as 
well  have  tried  to  catch  a  pitcher  of  water  from  the  Falls  of 

*  The  correspondence  with  him  I  find  in  the  "  Evening  Post." 
\  See  "  Le  Mie  Priggione." 
\  See  ante,  p.  315. 


HIS  OFFICE  HABITS.  339 

Niagara."  But,  like  all  voluble  talkers,  she  was  at  times  given 
to  "  words  of  learned  length  and  thundering  sound,"  and  it 
was  an  amusement  to  see  the  poet  taking  her  vocabulary  to 
pieces.  * 

After  several  months  of  casual  intercourse,  I  had  formed 
no  real  intimacy  with  him,  nor  had  I  reason  to  suppose  that 
he  took  the  slightest  interest  in  my  affairs;  when  one  day  he 
surprised  me  not  a  little  by  saying:  "  My  assistant,  Mr.  Ul- 
shoeffer "  (a  son  of  the  late  Judge  Ulshoeffer),  "  is  going  to 
Cuba  for  his  health  ;  how  would  you  like  to  take  his  place  ?  " 
I  replied  that  I  had  never  been  inside  of  a  newspaper  office 
in  my  life,  and  would  make  but  a  sorry  fist  at  the  business. 
"  Well,"  he  replied,  in  a  friendly  way,  "  you  can  learn ;  and  I 
think  you  the  very  man  for  it."  He  then  went  on  to  say  that 
he  had  been  a  lawyer  himself,  but  had  found  the  life  of  an 
editor  quite  as  agreeable,  and  infinitely  more  useful.  "  Come 
and  try."  I  went  to  the  office  within  a  few  days,  and  tried, 
and  the  result  was,  as .  young  Ulshoeffer  died  in  the  inter 
val,  that  I  have  remained  there  ever  since — now  nearly  fifty 
\vars.  Mr.  Leggett  came  in  once  or  twice  after  I  had  joined 
the  force  ;  but  he  had  already  projected  a  periodical  of  his 
own,  to  be  called  "  The  Plaindealer,"  to  which  he  soon  de 
voted  his  entire  attention.  Unfortunately,  the  "  Evening  Post " 
was  not  in  a  condition  to  pay  for  varied  or  effective  services; 
and  the  editorial  department  was  reduced  to  three  persons,  f 
Mr.  Bryant  wrote  the  leading  articles  and  reviews  of  books; 
his  first  assistant  took  in  hand  the  exchanges  and  the  theatres ; 
and  the  third  person  acted  as  a  general  reporter,  with  occa 
sional  aid  from  other  reporters,  while  ship  news  was  gathered 

*  On  one  occasion,  in  later  years,  she  was  sitting  in  his  library  alone,  when  a 
cabinet-maker  brought  back  a  rocking-chair  he  had  taken  to  mend.  When  Mr. 
Bryant  came  in,  Miss  Robbins  said:  "  The  mechanic  has  returned  your  chair,  and 
expressed  the  hope  that  its  equilibrium  had  been  properly  adjusted."  "  Did  1:. 
that,"  replied  Mr.  Bryant  ;  "he  never  talked  so  to  me  ;  what  did  he  really  say?  " 
"  Well,  if  you  must  know,"  rejoined  Miss  Robbins,  "  he  said  he  guessed  the  rickety 
old  concern  wouldn't  joggle  any  more." 

f  It  now  consists  of  about  twenty. 


340  THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM. 

by  pilots  in  the  common  employ  of  the  several  evening  joui% 
nals.  As  the  staff  was  so  small,  the  labor  was  very  severe  ; 
but  it  fell  most  heavily  upon  Mr.  Bryant,  who  had  taught  his 
public  to  expect  every  day  some  disquisition  worthy  to  be 
read.  I  remember  with  what  delight  we  hailed  the  arrival  of 
a  foreign  packet  early  in  the  morning — it  was  before  the  days 
of  steamships — because  it  enabled  us  to  fill  our  columns  with 
European  intelligence  cut  directly  from  the  English  papers. 
Our  hours  were  from  seven  o'clock  A.  M.  to  about  four  P.  M. ; 
and  promptly  every  morning  Mr.  Bryant  was  at  his  desk, 
working  without  intermission  till  the  paper  had  gone  to  press. 
He  was  then  very  impatient  of  interruption,  even  irascible  at 
times,  but  uniformly  courteous  toward  his  colleagues  and  the 
printers.  His  articles,  always  prepared  in  the  office,  were 
written,  like  Pope's  "  Homer,"  on  the  first  scrap  of  paper  that 
came  to  hand — the  backs  of  old  letters,  or  the  reverse  side  of 
former  articles.  Writing  slowly  and  carefully,  with  many 
erasures  and  corrections,  but  in  a  neat  and  graceful  script, 
his  proofs  required  very  little  rectification.  Often  the  fore 
man  of  the  printing-room  would  stand  over  him,  snipping  off 
line  by  line  as  he  wrote,  in  order  to  be  in  time  for  the 
"  make-up." 

Commonly  he  began  his  disquisition,  whatever  it  might 
be,  with  an  anecdote  or  story  illustrative  of  the  theme,  which 
caused  a  witty  opponent  whom  he  had  castigated  to  say  that 
the  "  Evening  Post "  always  opened  with  a  stale  joke  and 
closed  with  a  fresh  lie.  His  ready  memory  of  the  poets  and 
essayists  helped  him  to  apt  quotations  wherewith  to  enliven 
or  enforce  his  argument.  He  seldom  surpassed  a  half-column 
of  print  in  getting  his  thought  well  out,  in  which  respect  he 
differed  from  Mr.  Leggett,  who  was  fond  of  expatiating 
through  entire  columns.  From  Leggett,  too,  he  differed  in 
other  respects,  seldom  indulging  in  the  discussion  of  general 
principles,  but  taking  up  the  particular  aspects  of  each  ques 
tion,  and  cultivating  greater  suavity  of  tone.  Delicate  irony 
or  ridicule  was  his  favorite  weapon ;  but,  when  the  occasion 


MANNER  OF   WRITING.  34 ! 

served,  he  could  be  excessively  sharp  and  stinging.  Readers 
familiar  with  his  journal  only  in  its  later  days,  when  age  had 
tempered  its  passions,  and  prosperity  invited  it  to  conserva 
tism,  know  nothing  of  the  aggressive  ardor  and  fiery  vehe 
mence  it  displayed  in  former  times. *  The  "  Evening  Post  " 
had  gradually  come  to  be  the  leading  defender  and  represen 
tative  of  the  more  liberal  creed  of  democracy,  and  it  was 
compelled  to  maintain  the  initiative  and  bearing  of  a  leader. 
The  country  journals  looked  to  it  for  their  cues ;  the  lesser 
politicians  were  guided  by  it ;  and  the  more  prominent  states 
men  of  its  party  were  glad  to  get  its  support.  Its  opponents 
charged  it  with  an  excess  of  partisanship  ;  but,  however  great 
its  zeal,  it  was  always  studiously  decorous  in  its  modes  of 
expression.  Mr.  Bryant  held  that  a  gentleman  would  be  a 
gentleman  in  his  public  utterances  no  less  than  in  his  private 
demeanor  ;  and  he  endeavored  never  to  write  under  the  influ 
ences  of  passion.  "  You  answer  that  fellow,"  he  would  often 
say  to  me,  "  for  I  dislike  him  so  much  that  I  might  not  be 
courteous  or  do  him  justice."  As  his  political  convictions 
were  sincere  and  earnest,  he  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  uphold 
them  earnestly  ;  and,  if  his  likes  and  his  dislikes  were  strong, 
passing  into  obstinacy,  if  not  prejudice,  in  certain  cases, 
they  were  never  founded  upon  the  relations  of  the  objects  of 
them  to  himself.  In  his  judgments  of  men  he  first  disclosed 
to  me  what  the  old  Swedish  seer  Swedenborg  means  when 
he  says  that  the  better  angels  see  in  others  not  their  per 
sons  but  their  human  quality.  He  estimated  the  people  he 
met  with,  in  private  as  in  public,  not  by  their  external  advan 
tages,  but  by  their  purely  inward  worth.  Always  prepared 
to  do  full  justice  to  everybody's  virtues,  or  genius,  or  wit, 
and  very  quick  to  discern  merit  or  excellence  of  any  kind,  he 
was  yet  principally  impressed  by  manliness  and  sincerity  of 
character.  When  these  were  found,  he  gave  a  willing  hom- 

*  It  was  curious  to  remark,  in  the  notices  of  Mr.  Bryant  that  appeared  just  after 
his  death,  how  the  writers  estimated  his  poetical  character  by  his  earliest  pieces,  and 
his  editorial  character  by  his  later  writings. 


342  THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM. 

age ;  when  they  were  not,  he  turned  away — without  regard 
to  any  social  or  adventitious  distinctions.  For  this  reason  he 
was  never  in  much  favor  with  the  little  great  men  of  politics, 
for  some  of  whom — the  mere  managers  of  political  machinery 
— he  never  disguised  his  dislike  ;  while  as  to  others  of  more 
mark — Van  Buren,  Wright,  Marcy,  Tilden — or,  afterward, 
Seward,  Chase,  and  Sumner — though  he  respected  and  ad 
mired  them,  he  seldom  gave  heed  to  their  notions  of  policy. 


Mr.  Leggett,  as  I  have  said,  soon  left  us  to  establish  a  peri 
odical  of  his  own,  "  The  Plaindealer,"  of  which  the  first  number 
appeared  in  December,  1836.  It  was  not  long  before  his  inde 
pendence  and  ardor  embroiled  Mr.  Bryant  unpleasantly  with 
his  eminent  contemporary,  Washington  Irving,  the  only  literary 
controversy,  if  it  may  be  called  such,  in  which  he  was  ever 
engaged.  Discussing  a  practice,  w^hich  obtained  among  the 
publishers  of  the  day,  of  mutilating  important  passages  in 
foreign  works  in  deference  to  pro-slavery  prejudices,  Mr. 
Leggett  departed  a  little  from  the  strict  line  of  his  argument 
to  charge  the  amiable  essayist  with  "  pusillanimity  "  because 
he  had  changed  a  verse  in  Mr.  Bryant's  "  Song  of  Marion's 
Men," 

"The  British  soldier  trembles,"* 

in  order  to  conciliate  English  feeling.  This  charge  naturally 
gave  offence  to  Mr.  Irving,  who  made  a  dignified  reply,  in 
the  course  of  which — after  a  full  and  frank  explanation  of 
the  motives  of  his  proceeding — he  said  that,  if  he  had  evinced 
any  timidity  of  spirit,  it  was  wholly  in  Mr.  Bryant's  behalf, 
and  that  "  he  was  little  prepared,  after  all  that  he  had  done, 
to  receive  a  stab  from  his  (Mr.  Bryant's)  bosom  friend." 
Leggett  appended  to  this  reply  a  complete  exoneration  of 

*  Mr.  Irving  made  it  read, 

"  The  foeman  trembles  in  his  camp." 


LETTER  FROM  IRVING.  343 

Mr.  Bryant  from  any  complicity  in  his  remarks,  directly  or 
indirectly,  and  acknowledged  further  that  he  had  "  on  vari 
ous  occasions  heard  Mr.  Bryant  express  the  kindest  senti 
ments  toward  -Mr.  Irving  for  the  interest  he  had  taken  in  the 
publication  of  the  poems,  and  for  the  complimentary  terms  in 
which  he  had  introduced  them  to  the  British  public."  To 
leave  no  doubt  in  regard  to  the  sincerity  of  this  feeling,  Mr. 
Bryant  himself  hastened,  in  the  next  number  of  "  The  Plain- 
dealer,"  to  say  that,  although  he  would  not  have  made  the 
alteration,  he  had  never  complained  of  it,  having  no  doubt  it 
was  done  with  the  kindest  intentions  ;  but  he  expressed  his 
surprise  at  one  or  two  unguarded  passages  of  Mr.  Irving's 
note,  which  seemed  to  connect  him  with  the  attack. 

Mr.  Irving  rejoined  as  follows  in  the  "New  York  Ameri 
can": 

"  To  WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT,  Esq. 

"  SIR  :  It  was  not  until  this  moment  that  I  saw  your  letter  in  '  The 
Plaindealer '  of  Saturday  last.  I  cannot  express  to  you  how  much  it 
has  shocked  and  grieved  me.  Not  having  read  any  of  the  comments 
of  the  editor  of  *  The  Plaindealer '  on  the  letter  which  I  addressed 
to  him,  and  being  in  the  country,  out  of  the  way  of  hearing  the  com 
ments  of  others,  I  was  totally  ignorant  of  the  construction  put  upon 
the  passages  of  that  letter  which  you  have  cited.  Whatever  construc 
tion  these  passages  may  be  susceptible  of,  I  do  assure  you,  sir,  I  never 
supposed,  nor  had  the  remotest  intention  to  insinuate,  that  you  had 
the  least  participation  in  the  attack  recently  made  upon  my  character 
by  the  editor  of  the  above-mentioned  paper,  or  that  you  entertained 
feelings  which  could  in  any  degree  be  gratified  by  such  an  attack. 
Had  I  thought  you  chargeable  with  such  hostility,  I  should  have  made 
the  charge  directly  and  explicitly,  and  not  by  innuendo. 

"  The  little  opportunity  that  I  have  had,  sir,  of  judging  of  your 
private  character,  has  only  tended  to  confirm  the  opinion  I  had  formed 
of  you  from  your  poetic  writings,  which  breathe  a  spirit  too  pure,  ami 
able,  and  elevated,  to  permit  me  for  a  moment  to  think  you  capable 
of  anything  ungenerous  and  unjust. 

*  "  Plaindealer,"  December  28,  1836. 


344  THE  RISE  OF  ABOLITIONISM. 

"As  to  the  alteration  of  a  word  in  the  London  edition  of  your 
poems,  which  others  have  sought  to  nurture  into  a  root  of  bitterness 
between  us,  I  have  already  stated  my  motives  for  it,  and  the  embar 
rassment  in  which  I  was  placed.  I  regret  extremely  that  it  should 
not  have  met  with  your  approbation,  and  sincerely  apologize  to  you 
for  the  liberty  I  was  persuaded  to  take — a  liberty,  I  freely  acknowl 
edge,  the  least  excusable  with  writings  like  yours,  in  which  it  is  diffi 
cult  to  alter  a  word  without  marring  a  beauty. 

"  Believe  me,  sir,  with  perfect  respect  and  esteem,  very  truly  yours, 

"  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 
"THURSDAY  MORNING,  Februaryiby  1837." 

This  slight  collision  left  "  no  root  of  bitterness  "  in  the  heart 
of  either  of  the  parties  to  it,  and,  whenever  they  happened  to 
meet  at  the  houses  of  common  friends,  which  was  not  very 
often,  as  they  both  lived  out  of  the  city,  their  intercourse  was 
marked  by  the  greatest  affability  and  kindness. 


CHAPTER  EIGHTEENTH. 

POLITICAL  WARFARE. 
A.  D.  1837,  1838. 

MR.  BRYANT  was  too  much  absorbed  in  the  political  dis 
cussions  of  the  time  to  be  able  to  give  any  attention  to  per 
sonal  disputes,  even  if  he  had  been  inclined  to  that  sort  of 
warfare — which  he  was  not.  Out  of  the  agitation  of  aboli 
tionism  another  question  had  arisen,  in  which  he  took  a  deep 
interest.  It  was  that  of  conferring  the  right  of  suffrage  on 
negroes,  who  in  the  State  of  New  York  were  emancipated 
from  bondage,  but  not  yet  admitted  to  the  full  privileges  of 
citizenship.  Of  course,  it  was  easily  confounded  with  the 
more  general  antislavery  movement,  and  provoked  much  of 
the  same  kind  of  hostility.  Mr.  Bryant  endeavored  to  show 
that  they  were  essentially  different  questions.  He  said : 

"  It  appears  to  us  that  it  is  very  unwise  to  connect  this  question 
with  that  of  the  principal  object  of  the  Abolitionists,  which  is,  to  do 
away  with  slavery  in  the  Southern  States.  The  great  objection  brought 
against  their  course  hitherto  has  been  that  they  were  meddling  with  a 
matter  with  which  they  had  no  concern,  and  which  their  interference 
might  make  worse  for  both  master  and  slave.  There  is  not  the  least 
ground  for  either  of  these  objections  in  the  case  of  the  petition  in 
question.  We  recognize  the  blacks  as  citizens,  and  we  have  a  perfect 
right  to  say  how  easy  we  will  make  the  condition  of  their  citizenship. 
The  moment  we  allow  ourselves  to  be  restrained  in  legislating  on  this 
subject  by  a  regard  for  what  is  or  may  be  said  at  the  South  or  any- 


346  POLITICAL    WARFARE. 

where  else,  we  submit  to  external  interference,  we  allow  a  power  from 
without  to  dictate  what  shall  be  the  qualifications  of  our  voters." 

The  distinction  was  gradually  recognized  by  the  people ; 
and  the  negroes,  in  spite  of  the  fierce  opposition  they  encoun 
tered,  were  qualified  at  the  next  revision  of  the  Constitution, 
in  1845.  It  was  a  considerable  advance  in  public  opinion,  and 
shows  that  a  wiser  and  better  feeling  was  beginning  to  work. 

A  more  general  reason  for  Mr.  Bryant's  earnest  interest  in 
politics  was  the  election  of  his  personal,  though  not  intimate, 
friend,  Mr.  Martin  Van  Buren,  to  the  Presidency.  In  the  par 
tisan  journals  that  leader  was  universally  represented  as  a 
crafty  and  trickish  politician,  who  gained  his  successes  by  the 
low  arts  of  the  politician  rather  than  by  the  liberal  methods  of 
the  statesman ;  but  Mr.  Bryant,  who  had  known  him  for  some 
years,  had  always  found  him  to  be  a  gentleman  of  broad  gen 
eral  views,  of  remarkable  sagacity,  unstained  honor,  and  win 
ning  courtesy  of  manner.  He  was  cautious  in  action,  and  more 
disposed  to  rely  upon  party  machinery  than  Mr.  Bryant  en 
tirely  approved,  but  he  had  given  him  no  occasion  to  suspect 
the  sincerity  of  his  convictions  or  his  disinterested  patriotism. 
Jackson's  preference  of  Van  Buren  perhaps  influenced  him 
somewhat,  as  he  still  retained  a  high  admiration  for  the  "  old 
hero."  "  Faults  he  had,  undoubtedly,"  Mr.  Bryant,  when  Jack 
son  left  office,  wrote ;  "  such  faults  as  often  belong  to  an  ar 
dent,  generous,  sincere  nature — the  weeds  that  grow  in  a  rich 
soil.  He  was  hasty  in  his  temper,  and,  though  sagacious  gen 
erally  in  his  estimate  of  human  character,  apt  to  be  led  by  the 
warmth  of  his  friendships  into  great  mistakes.  He  appointed 
men  in  several  instances  to  places  for  which  they  were  quite 
unfit.  Notwithstanding  this,  he  was  precisely  the  man  for  the 
period  in  which  he  filled  the  Presidential  chair,  and  well  and 
nobly  discharged  the  duties  demanded  of  him  by  the  times. 
If  he  Avas  brought  into  collision  with  the  mercantile  classes,  it 
was  more  their  fault  than  his  own.  No  man,  even  the  most 
discreet  and  prudent,  could,  under  the  same  circumstances, 


VAN  BUREN'S  ADMINISTRATION.  347 

have  done  his  duty  without  exasperating  them  against  him. 
The  immediate  and  apparent  interests,  though  not  the-  p-.Tina- 
nent  and  true  interests  of  trade,  were  involved  in  the  contro 
versy  with  the  national  bank;  and,  as  men  are  apt  to  l<><ik 
principally  to  the  convenience  of  the  moment,  the  attack  upon 
it  naturally  offended  the  mercantile  classes.  Artful  party 
leaders  exaggerated  the  cause  of  offence  until  they  were  al 
most  entirely  alienated  from  his  administration.  This,  and  not 
hatred  of  Jackson,  was  the  true  cause.  Had  Zeno  himself 
been  President,  the  result  would  have  been  the  same."*  .  .  . 

The  administration  of  Van  Buren — as  the  successor,  or,  as 
they  used  to  say,  the  pet  of  Jackson — inherited  all  the  difficul 
ties  of  the  original  Jacksonian  policy,  to  which  time  had  added 
some  of  its  own.  The  prosperity  of  1836,  produced  by  an  in 
fatuated  commercial  confidence  in  speculative  enterprise,  was 
followed,  as  many  foresaw,  and  the  "  Evening  Post "  predicted 
it  would  be,  by  the  inevitable  revulsion.  Already,  at  the  close 
of  the  year  1836,  there  were  many  signs  of  coming  distress — 
but  the  bubble  did  not  burst  till  the  summer  of  1837.  A  panic 
began  then,  which,  for  its  sudden  and  disastrous  arrest  of  the 
business  of  an  entire  community,  has  seldom  been  equalled  in 
a  time  of  peace.  Merchant  after  merchant  failed,  the  most 
substantial  houses  going  by  the  board  ;  the  banks  suspended 
the  payment  of  specie ;  credit  and  money  alike  disappeared  ; 
manufactories  were  stopped,  and  large  classes  of  working-men 
thrown  out  of  employment. 

It  was  in  vain  that  the  "  Evening  Post  "  and  other  authori 
ties  argued  that  these  catastrophies  were  the  result  of  a  pre 
vious  state  of  debauchery ;  that  our  foreign  credits  had  been 
enormously  expanded ;  that  a  fall  in  the  markets  abroad  had 
been  followed  by  an  unexampled  fall  in  the  domestic  markets ; 
and  that  a  deficient  harvest  at  home  had  for  the  first  time  com 
pelled  us  to  resort  to  an  importation  of  corn  and  bread-stuffs. 
Men  who  suffer  seldom  reason.  They  had  lost  their  fortunes, 

*  "  Evening  Tost,"  December  3,  1836. 


348  POLITICAL    WARFARE. 

and  it  was  easy  to  find  a  scapegoat  on  which  to  cast  the  burden 
of  their  own  sin.  Nor  were  they  wholly  destitute  of  plausible 
pretexts.  Jackson's  specie  circular,  as  it  was  called — a  man 
date  forbidding  the  receipt  of  gold  and  silver  in  payment  for 
purchases  of  public  lands,  one  of  the  principal  objects  of  pre 
vious  speculation — no  doubt,  aggravated  the  distress.  It  was, 
Jiowever,  an  aggravation  of  symptoms  only,  and  not  a  source 
of  disease.  That  lay  much  deeper,  but  the  mercantile  commu 
nity  refused  to  see  it.  They  raged  and  howled  at  the  party  in 
power.  Deputation  after  deputation  from  the  commercial 
centres  waited  upon  Mr.  Van  Buren  to  implore  a  repeal  of 
the  offensive  order ;  clamorous  meetings  were  held  all  over 
the  country;  great  orators,  like  Clay  and  Webster,  lent  the 
force  of  their  eloquence  to  the  popular  ferment,  but  Mr.  Van 
Buren  remained  firm.  In  the  face  of  the  remonstrances  of 
committees,  of  the  denunciations  of  newspapers,  and  of  the 
threats  of  overheated  young  men,  who  wanted  to  take  up  arms 
to  dislodge  the  Government  by  force,  he  not  only  adhered  to 
the  policy  of  his  predecessors,  but  he  recommended  a  step  for 
ward.  It  was  the  total  separation  of  the  finances  of  the  Gov 
ernment  from  the  paper-money  banks,  which  he  regarded  as  a 
main  source  of  the  prevailing  evil.  In  the  estimation  of  the 
traders  this  was  like  giving  an  additional  turn  to  the  screw, 
which  was  already  excruciating  their  bodies,  and  their  outcries 
grew  into  a  deafening  and  terrific  roar. 

As  the  proposed  change  was  in  a  direction  which  the 
"Evening  Post"  had  long  advised,  of  which,  in  truth,  that 
journal  was,  if  not  the  author,  the  earliest  and  most  strenuous 
advocate,  it  was  bound  to  support  the  measure  with  all  its 
force.  Contending,  as  it  had  always  done,  that  the  business  of 
dealing  in  money,  or  of  lending  credit  to  individual  enter 
prises,  was,  like  every  other  business,  a  matter  of  private  con 
cern,  which  required  no  further  interposition  of  law  than  to 
prevent  fraud,  it  was  delighted  to  find  the  federal  Government 
making  an  advance  in  the  right  direction.  In  proposing  to 
become  the  custodian  of  its  own  funds,  it  released  one  of  the 


THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION.  349 

most  important  functions  of  commerce  from  its  direct  super 
vision,  and  it  paved  the  way  to  other  equally  important  ad 
vances  in  the  sphere  of  commercial  freedom.  The  defence  of 
this  scheme  for  an  independent  treasury,  by  the  "  Evening 
Post,"  contributed  not  a  little  to  its  formal  acceptance  by  pub 
lic  opinion,  but  at  the  cost  of  the  journal. 

Nevertheless,  devoted  as  Mr.  Bryant  was  to  the  general 
policy  of  the  administration,  he  could  not  give  it  an  unquali 
fied  approval.  Antislavery  was  no  longer  the  voice  of  one 
crying  in  the  wilderness.  It  was  pressing  forward,  in  one 
shape  or  another,  into  the  political  arena.  Petitions  to  Con 
gress  to  put  an  end  to  the  evil  in  the  District  of  Columbia, 
and  in  the  territories  where  the  general  Government  was  sup 
posed  to  have  a  right  of  control,  were  multiplying  every  day, 
and  they  grew  by  the  very  means  adopted  to  suppress  them 
—the  refusal  to  receive  them  by  the  national  Legislature. 

"  Must  Congress,"  asked  Mr.  Bryant,  "  open  its  ears  to 
every  private  claim  for  mere  pecuniary  redress,  and  yet  ex 
clude  the  petitions  of  thousands  of  men  directed  against  what 
they  deem  a  most  flagrant  and  crying  abuse  ?  Nothing  can  be 
simpler  than  the  course  both  reason  and  equity  prescribe. 
Let  the  suggestion  of  the  petitioners  be  candidly  investigated 
and  discussed.  If  their  requests  have  no  foundation  in  justice 
and  truth,  it  is  easy  enough  to  establish  the  point,  and  dismiss 
the  plaintiffs  with  the  satisfactory  knowledge  that  their  decla 
rations  have  been  at  least  heard.  Or,  if  they  have  raised  a 
question  in  the  face  of  the  Constitution  and  laws,  give  them 
the  evidence  of  their  error,  that  they  may  retire  from  a  con 
test  which  must  be  utterly  hopeless.  Whether  right  or  wrong, 
there  will  be  no  end  to  their  remonstrances  so  long  as  they 
shall  be  treated  with  cavalier  or  cold  contempt.  The  very 
fact  that  they  are  served  in  this  manner  can  only  strengthen 
their  determination  and  add  fresh  zeal  to  their  perseverance. 
Will  it  not  excite  the  suspicion  that  there  are  other  causes  for 
this  abrupt  procedure  than  the  bare  impracticability  of  what 
they  demand?  None  shrink  from  discussion  but  those  who 


350  POLITICAL    WARFARE. 

are  afraid  of  the  truth,  and  none  seek  to  veil  their  deeds  in 
darkness  and  silence  unless  apprehensive  that  the  light  will 
reveal  some  wickedness."  In  a  few  months  after  these  words 
were  spoken  (January,  1838),  the  Democratic  young  men  of 
New  York  held  a  meeting  to  condemn  the  gag-resolutions 
presented  to  Congress  by  one  Patton,  and  the  Legislature  of 
the  State  of  New  York  denounced,  with  all  its  authority,  the 
rejection  by  Congress  of  the  popular  demands. 

The  slave-holders  were  too  keen-sighted  not  to  foresee  that 
any  discussion  of  slavery  was  perilous,  and  were  therefore  not 
satisfied  with  demanding  a  suppression  of  the  right  of  peti 
tion.  They  insisted  that  abolitionism  itself  should  be  silenced 
by  law.  Their  legislatures  called  upon  the  legislatures  of 
northern  communities  to  make  it  illegal  to  agitate  the  sub 
ject.  Governor  Ritter,  of  Pennsylvania,  was  the  only  north 
ern  governor  who  peremptorily  refused  to  communicate  their 
wishes  to  the  legislative  body  of  the  State  to  which  he  be 
longed.  The  others  acquiesced,  or  were  silent.  But  among 
the  masses  of  the  people  this  acquiescence  or  silence  was  less 
and  less  approved.  It  was  felt,  by  increasing  numbers  of  them, 
that  the  haughty  pretensions  of  the  slave-holders  ought  to  be 
resisted.  Assuredly,  invthe  neutral  District  of  Columbia  and 
in  the  territories,  they  had  a  right  to  intervene ;  and  they 
would  intervene.  This  undercurrent  of  feeling  the  politicians 
and  statesmen  were  slow  to  perceive  ;  and  Mr.  Van  Buren  was 
so  ignorant  of  it  that,  in  his  inaugural  address,  he  had  pledged 
the  whole  power  of  the  Government  to  an  active  hostility  to 
the  designs  of  the  antislavery  agitators. 

It  was  a  sore  trial  to  the  "  Evening  Post " — devoted  as  it  was 
to  the  financial  projects  of  the  administration,  and  vindicating 
it  warmly,  as  it  did,  in  many  points  of  moment,  such  as  its 
controversy  with  Great  Britain  on  the  northeastern  boundary, 
and  its  efforts  to  maintain  the  supremacy  of  law  on  our  north 
ern  frontier,  where  a  wide-spread  sympathy  with  Canadian 
revolt  led  to  alternate  armed  invasions  from  either  side — to  be 
obliged  to  throw  itself  into  opposition  on  nearly  every  ques- 


MURDER  OF  LO  VEJO  Y.  35! 

tion  in  which  slavery  was  implicated.      But  it  did  not  1. 
tate.    That  question  was  assuming  a  greater  magnitude  and 
more  menacing  aspects  every  day,  and  it  would  not  blind  it 
self  to  the  importance  of  the  struggle. 

In  spite  of  the  successes  of  the  slave-holders  in  Congress,  in 
the  press,  and  in  vulgar  public  sentiment,  the  party  of  freedom 
had  been  enlarged  and  strengthened  by  recent  events.  At  the 
close  of  the  year  1837  a  mob,  in  its  blind  fury,  had  murdered 
the  Rev.  Elijah  P.  Lovejoy,  and  destroyed  his  presses,  at  Alton, 
Illinois ;  and  the  outrage  sent  a  shudder  of  indignation  through 
out  the  free  States.  Freedom  was  now  baptized  in  blood,  and 
consecrated  by  its  first  martyr.  Men  like  Dr.  Channing,  Wen 
dell  Phillips,  Salmon  P.  Chase,  William  Leggett,  and  Gerrit 
Smith  raised  the  banner  of  free  speech,  as  the  precursor  of  a 
more  universal  freedom.  Mr.  Bryant  was  already  committed. 
A  year  before,  when  Cincinnati  was  disgraced  by  a  meeting 
which  resolved  to  put  down  the  Abolition  press  of  J.  G.  Birney 
by  violence,  he  had  said :  "  There  is  no  tyranny  exercised  in 
any  part  of  the  world  more  absolute  or  more  frightful  than 
that  which  they  (the  Cincinnati  meeting)  would  establish.  So 
far  as  we  are  concerned,  we  are  determined  that  this  despotism 
shall  neither  be  submitted  to  nor  encouraged.  In  whatever 
form  it  makes  its  appearance,  we  shall  raise  our  voice  against 
it.  We  are  resolved  that  the  subject  of  slavery  shall  be,  as  it 
ever  has  been,  as  free  a  subject  for  discussion,  and  argument, 
and  declamation,  as  the  differences  between  whiggism  and 
democracy,  or  the  differences  between  Arminians  and  Calvin- 
ists.  If  the  press  chooses  to  be  silent  on  the  subject,  it  should 
be  the  silence  of  free-will,  not  the  silence  of  fear."  *  Now  again 
its  voice  was  raised,  all  the  more  forcibly  for  the  calm  deter 
mination  with  which  it  was  uttered.  "The  right,"  said  the 
"  Evening  Post,"  "  to  discuss  freely  and  openly,  by  speech,  by 
the  pen,  by  the  press,  all  political  questions,  and  to  examine 
and  animadvert  on  all  political  institutions,  is  a  right  so  clear 

*  "  Evening  Post,"  August  8,  1836. 


352  POLITICAL    WARFARE. 

and  certain,  so  interwoven  with  other  liberties,  so  necessary, 
in  fact,  to  their  existence,  that  without  it  we  must  fall  at  once 
into  despotism  or  anarchy.  To  say  that  he  who  holds  unpopu 
lar  opinions  must  hold  them  at  the  peril  of  his  life,  and  that 
if  he  expresses  them  in  public  he  has  only  himself  to  blame  if 
they  who  disagree  with  him  should  rise  and  put  him  to  death, 
is  to  strike  at  all  rights,  all  liberties,  all  protection  of  law,  and 
to  justify  or  extenuate  all  crimes.  We  approve,  then,  we  ap 
plaud — we  would  consecrate,  if  we  could,  to  universal  honor — 
the  conduct  of  those  who  bled  in  this  gallant  defence  of  the 
freedom  of  the  press.  Whether  they  erred  or  not  in  their 
opinions,  they  did  not  err  in  the  conviction  of  their  right,  as 
citizens  of  a  democratic  State,  to  express  them ;  nor  did  they 
err  in  defending  their  right  with  an  obstinacy  which  yielded 
only  to  death/'  * 

These  words  are  common  words  now  ;  but  they  were  golden 
words  when  they  were  written.  The  spirit  of  slavery  had  so 
infused  itself  into  the  minds  of  even  educated  men  that  law 
yers  of  distinction,  and  clergymen  from  their  pulpits,  argued 
that  the  fate  which  had  overtaken  Lovejoy  was  deserved  ;  and 
that  every  one  who  shared  his  opinions,  or  condemned  the 
manner  of  his  death,  ought  to  be  subjected  to  the  same  pun 
ishment. 

Nothing  shows  more  clearly  the  utter  degradation  of  pub 
lic  feeling,  and  the  manly  independence  of  Mr.  Bryant,  both 
of  party  and  opinion,  than  his  course  in  regard  to  the  case  of 
the  Amistad  negroes,f  which  produced  at  the  time  a  great 
deal  of  excitement.  This  was  the  case  of  a  small  number  of 
poor  Africans  who  had  been  stolen  from  their  native  land 
and  sold  as  slaves  in  Cuba,  but  who,  in  a  voyage  from  Havana 
to  Principe,  on  the  schooner  Amistad,  rose  upon  their  pur 
chasers,  killed  several  of  the  crew,  and  compelled  the  others 
to  navigate  the  vessel,  as  they  supposed,  toward  their  homes. 

*  "  Evening  Post,"  November,  1837. 

f  This  was  in  1839,  but  it  is  convenient  to  refer  to  it  here. 


HOT  CONFLICTS.  353 

They  were  deceived,  and  she  was  brought  into  American 
waters  (Long  Island  Sound),  where  she  was  seized,  and  the  in 
surgents  imprisoned  as  criminals.  Mr.  Bryant,  after  causing 
the  law  to  be  investigated  by  his  friend,  Theodore  Sedgwick, 
Jr.,  who  prepared  an  elaborate  argument  for  the  "  Evening 
Post,"  insisted  that  they  could  not  be  held.  They  are  not 
slaves,  he  argued,  but  freemen ;  not  malefactors,  but  heroes. 
Mr.  Forsyth,  the  Secretary  of  State,  and  Mr.  Grundy,  Attorney- 
General,  did  what  they  could,  officially  and  otherwise,  to  get 
the  miserable  creatures  delivered  up,  on  claim  of  the  Spanish 
minister,  which  meant  their  surrender  to  a  hopeless  bond 
age  ;  but  the  courts  adopted  the  view  the  "  Evening  Post " 
had  taken,  and  the  captives  were  at  length  restored  to  their 
friends. 

Not  unwilling  to  leave  slavery  to  its  fate  within  the  States, 
in  the  assurance  that  it  would  be  ultimately  crushed  to  death 
by  the  progress  of  our  democratic  civilization,  Mr.  Bryant  was 
wholly  averse  to  the  toleration  of  it  where  it  could  be  reached, 
or  to  the  extension  of  its  boundaries.  But  this  attitude,  mod 
erate  as  it  was,  was  hardly  satisfactory  to  any  of  the  existing 
parties.  It  wras  too  moderate  to  please  the  more  zealous  Abo 
litionists  ;  not  moderate  enough  to  meet  the  wishes  of  their 
antagonists ;  and  in  every  way  offensive  to  professional  poli 
ticians,  who  desired  to  see  the  subject  removed  entirely  from 
the  field  of  discussion.  Yet  his  journal  held  on  its  way,  giving 
and  getting  blows  on  all  sides.  The  fiercest  passions  were 
often  engendered  by  these  conflicts,  and 

" .  .  .  Wrath,  that  fire  of  hell, 
Which  leaves  its  frightful  scars  upon  the  soul," 

was  not  an  infrequent  guest  of  the  bosom  of  the  poet,  who 
would  far  more  willingly  have  listened  to  other  and  more 
harmonious  voices. 

Back  of  the  scheme  for  the  seizure  of  Texas,  which  the 
slave-holders  began  to  avow,  Mr.  Bryant  discerned  their  pur 
pose  to  establish  a  great  slave-holding  empire  in  the  south- 

TOL.  I.— 24 


354  POLITICAL    WARFARE. 

west  in  the  event  of  their  defeat  within  the  Union.  The  vig 
orous  blows  of  Jackson  had  disposed  of  nullification  for  the 
nonce ;  but  the  spirit  of  it  lived  in  these  sectional  projects. 
He  thought  it  important  to  counteract  their  effects  by  vig 
orous  appeals  to  a  national  sentiment,  and  in  that  view  he 
consented  to  take  part  in  the  proceedings  of  the  New  York 
Historical  Society  when  it  celebrated  the  fiftieth  anniversary 
of  the  inauguration  of  Washington.  Mr.  John  Quincy  Ad 
ams  was  chosen  the  orator,  and  Mr.  Bryant  the  poet,  of  the 
occasion  (April,  1838).  Averse  as  he  was  to  occasional  writ 
ing,  he  would  not,  under  the  circumstances,  allow  his  re 
pugnance  to  overcome  his  sense  of  duty.  Mr.  Adams,  it 
was  understood,  was  prepared  to  make  a  powerful  plea  in 
behalf  of  the  Constitution  and  the  unity  of  the  nation,  and, 
although  he  did  not  wholly  agree  with  Mr.  Adams  in  polit 
ical  sentiment,  he  was  glad  to  contribute  his  influence  and  tal 
ent  to  the  general  object.  He  wrote  a  poem,  in  four  stanzas, 
to  be  sung  by  the  choir,  beginning, 

"  Great  were  the  hearts,  and  strong  the  minds, 

Of  those  who  framed  in  high  debate 
The  immortal  league  of  Love  that  binds 
Our  fair,  broad  empire,  State  with  State," 

which  answered  its  purpose,  and  was  widely  published  in  the 
newspapers  of  the  day,  but  which,  owing  to  certain  slight 
technical  defects,  he  refused  to  incorporate  in  his  works.* 

Other  contributions  to  patriotic  sentiment  had  already  ap 
peared  when  the  Union  was  threatened,  such  as  "  The  Green 
Mountain  Boys,"  intended  to  recall  the  daring  of  New  Eng 
land  heroes ;  "  The  Song  of  Marion's  Men,"  in  which  we  hear 
the  tramp  of  the  gallant  partisan  warriors  of  the  South ;  and 
"  Seventy-Six,"  which  glowed  with  the  fire  of  the  revolution 
ary  sires. 

Allusions  to  his  occupations  and  interests  at  this  time  are 

*  The  repetition,  I  suspect,  of  similar  rhymes  in  two  different  stanzas. 


FAMILIAR  LETTERS. 


355 


to  be  found  in  these  extracts  from  his  private  letters,  with 
which  I  close  the  chapter  : 

"NEW  YORK,  FEBRUARY  27,  1837:*  You  have  kindly  suggested 
the  true  reason  of  my  not  writing  to  you  before,  or,  rather,  one  of  the 
reasons.  My  newspaper  is  really  a  task  which  takes  up  all  my  time, 
and  the  affairs  of  the  republic  give  me  no  little  trouble.  You  cannot 
imagine  how  difficult  it  is  to  make  the  world  go  right.  The  gains  you 
talk  of  I  wish  I  could  see.  The  expenses  of  printing  and  conducting 
a  daily  paper  have  vastly  increased  lately,  and  there  is  no  increase  in 
the  rate  of  advertisements,  etc.,  to  make  it  up.  I  should  be  very  glad 
of  an  opportunity  to  attempt  something  in  the  way  I  like  best,  and 
am,  perhaps,  fittest  for;  but  here  I  am  a  draught-horse,  harnessed  to  a 
daily  drag.  I  have  so  much  to  do  with  my  legs  and  hoofs,  struggling 
and  pulling  and  kicking,  that,  if  there  is  anything  of  the  Pegasus  in 
me,  I  am  too  much  exhausted  to  use  my  wings.  I  would  withdraw 
from  this  occupation  if  I  could  do  so  and  be  certain  of  a  moderate 
subsistence,  for,  with  my  habits  and  tastes,  a  very  little  would  suffice. 
I  am  growing,  I  fear,  more  discontented  and  impatient  than  I  ought 
to  be  at  the  lot  which  has  fallen  to  me.  The  improved  health  which 
I  enjoy  ought  to  make  me  contented  with  almost  any  occupation.  I 
am  sorry  to  hear  that  yours  is  not  better.  .  .  . 

"  For  the  literary  world,  I  am  afraid  you  know  more  about  it  than 
I  do.  I  see  the  outside  of  almost  every  book  that  is  published,  but  I 
read  little  that  is  new.  I,  too,  hear  a  good  report  of  'Astoria,'  and  /, 
too,  have  not  read  it.  '  Ion  '  I  have  read,  and  think  there  is  justice  in 
the  remark  you  make  on  reading  the  extracts.  Besides,  it  is  not  dra 
matic  in  the  manner ;  I  wonder  that  a  man  of  sense  should  write  a 
play  so.  It  is  full  of  lyrical  flights  and  misplaced  rhetoric.  Cooper 
has  a  book  in  press  relating  to  some  part  of  Europe — France,  I  believe. 
I  see  Cooper  occasionally  in  his  visits  to  town,  for  he  lives  in  the 
country.  He  is  a  restless  creature,  and  does  not  seem  well  satisfied 
with  his  position  in  this  country,  though  his  great  reputation,  his 
handsome  fortune,  his  fine  health,  and  his  very  amiable  family,  ought 
to  make  him  so.  Verplanck  I  see  occasionally;  he  is  as  entertaining 
as  ever,  but  is  growing  fat.  Do  you  read  the  novels  of  Simms,  Bird, 

*  To  Richard  H.  Dana. 


356  POLITICAL    WARFARE. 

and  Kennedy?  Verplanck  speaks  highly  of  '  Horse-shoe  Robinson.' 
But  what  can  one  do  amid  such  a  deluge  of  new  things  ?  Did  you 
see  the  engraving  of  Halleck  ? — a  fine  likeness.  The  same  engraver 
is  now  at  work  upon  a  drawing  of  me,  by  the  same  painter,  Inman. 
I  have  had  my  portrait  taken  several  times,  but  owing,  I  suppose,  to 
the  fault  of  the  original,  I  have  never  liked  any  of  them.  This  draw 
ing  in  water-colors  by  Inman  is,  perhaps,  as  good  as  any,  but  it  does 
not  please  me.  I  shall  see  in  a  few  days  what  the  engraver  makes 
of  it.  .  .  ." 

"  NEW  YORK,  MAY  22,  1837  :  *  I  am  glad  you  are  situated  so  com 
fortably  as  you  appear  to  be  from  your  description.  I  hope  you  will 
pass  a  pleasant  summer,  and  wish,  with  all  my  heart,  I  could  be  with 
you.  But  of  that  it  is  idle  to  think.  I  have  enough  to  do,  both  with 
the  business  part  of  the  paper  and  the  management  of  it  as  editor,  to 
keep  me  constantly  busy.  I  must  see  that  the  '  Evening  Post '  does 
not  suffer  by  these  hard  times,  and  I  must  take  that  position  in  the 
great  controversies  now  going  which  is  expected  of  it.  There  is  much 
agitation  here ;  the  greater  part  of  the  merchants  are  gone  over  to  the 
Whigs,  and,  being  unfortunate  in  their  enterprises,  prefer  laying  the 
blame  on  the  Government  to  laying  it  on  their  own  want  of  prudence. 
Van  Buren  needs  all  the  management  which  has  been  ascribed  to  him 
to  weather  this  storm.  I  say  management,  but  I  think  firmness  is  the 
best  management,  and  of  this  I  must  do  him  the  justice  to  say  he 
shows  a  good  deal.  He  is  not  yet  driven  from  his  purpose  by  all  their 
fury  and  all  their  threats,  and  I  think  will  not  be.  He  knows  them 
well  enough  to  know  that  they  must  have  their  fit  of  unreasonable 
rage,  and  when  that  is  over  they  will  be  quiet  again. 

"  I  had  a  letter  the  other  day  from  Dana.  He  says  to  me  :  *  Keep 
eye  and  heart  upon  poetry  all  that  you  can  amid  the  bustle  and  anx 
iety.  As  to  reforming  the  world,  give  all  that  up.  It  is  not  to  be  done 
in  a  day,  nor,  on  your  plan,  through  all  time.  Human  nature  is  not 
fitted  for  such  a  social  condition  as  your  fancy  is  pleased  with.'  ' 

"  NEW  YORK,  MAY  25th :  f  Specie  is  not  less  scarce  here  than 
with  you  ;  and  the  merchants  have  been  making  a  terrible  uproar 
about  it.  They  are  ready  to  bite  off  the  heads  of  all  who  do  not 

*  To  Mrs.  Bryant,  in  the  country.  f  To  Miss  Julia  Sands. 


FAMILIAR  LETTERS. 

choose  to  think  exactly  as  they  do  in  this  matter.  Swartwout  made 
a  speech  at  the  Merchants'  Exchange,  and  told  them  that  he  would 
take  the  responsibility  of  receiving  bank  notes,  on  which  they  voted 
him  thanks  and  a  service  of  plate.  He  has  since  backed  out  from 
this  in  consequence  of  new  orders  from  Washington.  Some  of  his 
friends,  however,  say  that  he  never  made  the  promise,  and  that  the 
merchants  were  mistaken.  If  he  gets  the  plate  he  will  get  it  for  noth 
ing.  In  the  mean  time  we  have  had  a  great  deal  of  wrath  and  cab 
bage,  as  you  call  it  here ;  hot  blood  and  high  words ;  but  people  are 
now  becoming  soberer.  I  understand  that  the  clergymen  have  been 
taking  the  people  to  task  for  their  Union  Meetings,  as  they  are  called, 
for  their  greediness  for  gain,  their  gambling  speculations,  excessive 
use  of  credit,  and  extravagant  living.  These  things  have  almost  per 
suaded  some  that  the  specie  circular  is  not  the  cause  of  their  misfor 
tunes." 

"NEW  YORK,  MAY  29th:*  I  cannot  allow  this  opportunity  to 
send  you  a  hurried  letter  by  Mr.  Dewey  escape  me.  Even  in  your 
philosophic  retreat,  I  suppose  you  are  willing  now  and  then  to  hear 
from  the  noisy,  agitated  world  you  have  left.  A  different  world  it  now 
is  from  what  it  was  when  you  quitted  it — noisy  and  agitated  still,  but 
with  the  working  of  fiercer  though  not  stronger  passions.  I  often 
envy  you  your  quiet  retirement,  in  which  you  hear  no  more  of  this 
uproar  than  you  please.  Yet,  let  me  tell  you  that  the  world  has 
mended  in  some  respects.  If  it  has  not  grown  more  amiable,  it  has 
grown  less  luxurious  and  less  ostentatious.  Many  people  have  given 
up  the  idea  of  living  by  their  wits,  and  have  undertaken,  as  the  saying 
is,  to  live  by  work.  Here  are  two  important  instances  of  amendment. 

"  My  wife  and  children  are  gone  into  the  country  to  Great  Bar- 
rington.  I,  in  the  mean  time,  am  chained  so  fast  here  that  I  do  not 
know  when  I  shall  be  able  to  visit  them,  f 

*  To  the  Rev.  William  Ware. 

f  Mrs.  Bryant,  writing  to  Mrs.  Ware  about  that  time,  says  : 

"  Mr.  Bryant  has  gone  to  his  office.  You  cannot  think  how  distressed  I  am 
about  his  working  so  hard.  He  gets  up  as  soon  as  it  is  light,  takes  a  mouthful  to  eat 
— it  cannot  be  called  a  breakfast,  for  it  is  often  only  what  the  Germans  call  a  'stick 
of  bread '  ;  occasionally  the  milkman  comes  in  season  for  him  to  get  some  bread 
and  milk.  As  yet,  his  health  is  good,  but  I  fear  that  his  constitution  is  not  strong 
enough  for  such  intense  labor." 


358  POLITICAL    WARFARE. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  heard  that  Mr.  Leggett  has  established  a 
weekly  periodical  called  *  The  Plaindealer,'  which  is  much  liked  here, 
not  that  it  can  be  called  exactly  popular,  but  it  is  much  sought  after, 
read,  and  talked  of,  and,  of  course,  exerts  considerable  influence.  It 
is  thorough  on  the  Abolition  question.  But  I  dare  say  you  have  met 
with  it.  He  is  now  the  editor  of  a  daily  twopenny  paper  called  '  The 
Examiner,'  which  he  supplies  with  the  greatest  portion  of  the  leaded 
articles.  How  he  finds  time  and  words  to  write  so  much  I  know  not. 
...  I  am  about  to  read  the  Palmyrene  letters,  which  I  hear  are  yours. 
Miss  Martineau,  I  remember,  said  they  formed  a  '  new  era '  in  Ameri 
can  literature,  but  it  was  throwing  them  away  to  put  them  into  the 
'  Knickerbocker.' " 

"NEW  YORK,  JUNE  i8th:*  I  am  very  glad  you  find  something 
to  interest  you  in  the  country.  I  remember  when  a  residence  there 
was  to  you  a  perpetual  holiday.  I  hope  you  will  stick  to  your  rid 
ing  on  horseback  till  you  have  made  yourself  mistress  of  the  ac 
complishment.  You  have  shown  a  commendable  degree  of  courage, 
and  have  now  only  to  acquire  ease  and  dexterity.  As  to  the  want  of 
society  of  which  you  complain,  you  must  endeavor  to  make  yourself 
amends  for  it  by  passing  more  of  your  time  in  that  society  of  the  wise 
and  good  of  all  ages  which  you  will  find  in  your  mother's  library. 
You  like  Mrs.  Hemans's  '  Life,'  you  tell  me  ;  the  extracts  from  the 
letters  are  interesting,  but  the  rest  of  the  work  is  not  written  with 
much  grace  or  discrimination.  I  have  bought  you  Retzsch's  '  Outlines,' 
illustrative  of  Hamlet  and  Macbeth,  together  with  those  designed 
from  Schiller's  '  Combat  with  the  Dragon.'  Your  instance  of  ludi 
crous  translation  from  Shakespeare  I  have  heard  related  in  another 
manner :  //  n'y  a  pas  un  rat  qui  trotte.  Certainly  the  Germans  have 
rendered  Shakespeare  better  than  any  other  people  whose  language  I 
am  acquainted  with.  ..." 

"  NEW  YORK,  SEPTEMBER  pth :  f  Your  desire  for  the  '  Selections 
from  the  German  Classics '  shows  that  you  are  disposed  to  retain 
what  you  have  already  acquired.  You  will  never,  I  hope,  allow  a 
dislike  of  exertion  or  a  love  of  amusement  and  frivolous  occupation 

*  To  his  daughter  Fanny.  f  To  the  same. 


FAMILIAR  LETTERS. 


359 


to  obtain  the  ascendency  over  you.  You  are  now  arrived  at  '  years 
of  discretion,'  as  they  are  called — the  time  of  life  when  your  own  reason 
is  strong  enough,  if  you  will  follow  it,  to  show  you  what  you  ought  to 
do  to  form  your  own  character  and  intellect.  You  have,  as  we  all 
have,  three  enemies  to  contend  with — laziness,  selfishness,  and  ill- 
temper — and  you  must  master  them,  or  they  will  master  you.  Now  is 
the  time  to  put  them  in  chains  for  the  rest  of  your  life.  After  you 
have  once  fairly  subdued  them,  they  will  give  you  no  further  trouble. 
If  allowed  to  get  the  upper  hand,  they  become  the  parents  of  almost 
every  kind  of  wickedness  and  every  kind  of  suffering.  I  do  not  speak 
of  them  thus  because  I  think  you  more  in  danger  than  many  others 
from  these  evil  propensities.  You  have  your  share  of  them,  doubt 
less;  but  I  thank  God  that  you  have  a  strength  which,  if  rightly 
employed,  will  enable  you  to  overcome  them.  In  this  work  you  will 
find  great  support  from  religious  motives,  from  cultivating  a  reverence 
for  the  Supreme  Being  and  a  desire  to  do  what  is  pleasing  to  Him, 
and  from  studying  the  beautiful  and  tender  example  given  in  the 
life  of  Jesus  Christ." 

"NEW  YORK,  AUGUST  2ist:*  My  friends,  when  they  meet  me, 
congratulate  me  on  being  yet  alive.  You  will  ask  what  this  means. 
On  Saturday  last  I  received  a  challenge.  A  good-natured,  well-bred 
man,  Reynolds,  who  formerly  lectured  on  Captain  Symmes's  *  Theory 
of  the  Earth,'  and  who  has  been  appointed  historiographer  of  the  ex 
pedition  now  fitting  out  for  the  South  Seas,  walked  into  the  office  on 
*  unpleasant  business,'  as  he  called  it,  and  presented  me  a  written  in 
vitation  to  fight  a  duel,  from  a  man  named  Holland,  one  of  the  editors 
of  the  *  Times  '  newspaper.  Holland  had  taken  offence  at  something 
which  appeared  in  the  '  Evening  Post '  on  the  subject  of  the  '  Times,' 
and  wrote  to  me  for  an  explanation.  My  answer  did  not  satisfy  him ; 
he  wrote  again ;  I  declined  giving  any  other  answer,  and  so  he  asked 
me  to  fight.  I  told  Mr.  Reynolds  that  when  Mr.  Leggett,  a  gentleman 
of  strict  honor,  was  associated  with  me  in  the  conduct  of  the  'Evening 
Post,'  he  wrote  Holland  word  that  he  was  a  scoundrel ;  which  he  chose 
to  take  quietly.  I  said  that  Holland  must  settle  that  affair  first,  and 
that  then  I  would  consider  whether  his  note  deserved  any  further 

*  To  Mrs.  Bryant,  at  Great  Barrington. 


360  POLITICAL    WARFARE. 

reply.  Reynolds  was  very  anxious  to  persuade  me  to  give  some  other 
answer,  and  said  that  the  affair  might  easily  be  adjusted.  He  would 
not  take  back  my  note  to  Holland,  so  I  wrote  down  what  I  have  given 
above  as  my  answer,  and  sent  it  by  a  boy.  When  you  come  down  you 
shall  see  the  correspondence.  My  friends  are  much  amused  at  my 
having  got  into  such  a  scrape,  and  laugh  heartily  at  the  idea  that  a 
popinjay  \vho  curls  his  whiskers  should  think  to  engage  me  in  a  duel." 

What  amused  them  more  than  his  getting-  into  the  scrape 
was  his  adroit  way  of  getting  out  of  it.  Mr.  Leggett  retained 
enough  of  the  spirit  of  the  naval  officer  to  be  willing,  if  not 
somewhat  eager,  to  void  his  quarrels  at  the  end  of  the  sword, 
or  with  the  pistol,  a  fact  very  well  known  in  society ;  and  Mr. 
Bryant's  reference  of  his  would-be  antagonist  to  one  who  was 
not,  like  himself,  a  non-combatant,  was  thought  to  be  a  clever 
piece  of  strategy. 

"  NEW  YORK,  OCTOBER  2Qth  :  *  I  am  very  happy  to  hear  that 
you  and  your  mother  like  the  President's  Message  so  well.  I  always 
knew  that  Mrs.  Sands  judged  candidly  when  both  sides  of  a  question 
were  presented  to  her.  I  like  the  political  economy  of  the  first  of  your 
two  last  letters  very  much.  It  is  quite  orthodox  and  clear,  but  that  of 
the  second  letter  is  misty .  .  .  The  lines  alluded  to  by  the  Scotch 
clergyman  I  manufactured  for  Mr.  Verplanck.  They  are  a  translation 
from  the  ^Eneid,  and  are  found  in  a  note  to  one  of  his  public  dis 
courses,  I  forget  which.  Here  they  are  : 

"  '  Patriots  were  there  in  Freedom's  battle  slain, 

Priests  whose  long  lives  were  closed  without  a  stain, 
Bards  worthy  him  who  breathed  the  poet's  mind, 
Founders  of  arts  that  dignify  mankind, 
And  lovers  of  our  race,  whose  labors  gave 
Their  names  a  memory  that  defies  the  grave.' 

"  I  was  at  Mr.  Verplanck's  some  ten  evenings  since,  at  a  meeting 
of  the  Sketch  Club,  and  a  pleasant  time  we  had  of  it.  The  late 
member  was  quite  entertaining,  and  there  was  Mr.  Gleddon  (is  that 

*  To  Miss  Sands. 


FAMILIAR  LETTERS.  361 

his  name  ?),  the  Egyptian,  and  Professor  Holland,  of  Washington  Col 
lege,  who  wrote  the  life  of  Van  Burcn,  a  well-informed,  agreeable  man. 
By  the  by,  have  you  heard  of  my  affair  of  honor  with  the  other  Hol 
land,  late  editor  of  the  late  '  Times '  ?— 

"  '  Campbell's  Letters  from  the  South '  I  have  not  read,  except 
some  parts  of  them  in  one  of  the  English  magazines,  where  they  first 
appeared.  You  are  right  in  entertaining  great  expectations  from  the 
electro-magnetic  machine,  but  its  claims  to  attention  are  now  eclipsed 
by  the  wonders  of  animal  magnetism  and  the  curiosities  of  the  Fair 
of  the  American  Institute.  I  have  a  report,  lately  made  to  the  French 
Academy  of  Medicine,  translated  partly  by  myself,  which  I  mean  to 
publish.  I  will  send  it  to  you.  It  is  a  very  curious  affair.  A  mag- 
netizer  challenged  the  enemies  of  the  science  to  witness  the  proof, 
and  promised  to  convince  them  of  its  truth.  The  Academy  appointed 
a  committee  of  shrewd  fellows,  who  had  their  eyes  open,  who  saw 
through  all  the  tricks  of  the  magnetizer,  thwarted  all  his  arrange 
ments,  and  witnessed  the  entire  failure  of  every  one  of  his  experi 
ments.  I  have  no  doubt  that  animal  magnetism  is  the  flam  of 
flams. 

"  I  heard  Mr.  Dewey's  address,  and  a  noble  discourse  it  was.* 
Buckingham,  the  English  traveller  in  the  East,  is  here,  and  is  to  lec 
ture — a  most  eloquent  and  interesting  man  in  his  particular  way,  they 
say,  but  a  certain  English  friend  of  mine  does  not  give  him  as  much 
credit  for  principle  as  for  talent,  and  he  certainly  makes  too  much 
parade  of  his  sufferings  in  his  appeal  to  the  American  public.  His 
sufferings  consist  in  being  exiled  from  India  by  the  East  India  Com 
pany,  on  whose  government  he  had  animadverted  in  the  *  Calcutta 
Journal,'  of  which  he  was  proprietor.  He  lost  the  property  of  the 
journal  in  consequence,  but  he  has  since  been  a  very  successful  lec 
turer  in  England,  and  is  by  no  means  in  a  starving  condition,  as  I 
hear.  His  sufferings  are  equal  to  those  of  a  prosperous  blacksmith 
whose  landlord  turns  him  out  of  his  shop,  and  who  thereupon  becomes 
a  thriving  shoemaker. 

"  How  can  you  ask  whether  I  have  read  the  '  Letters  from  Pal 
myra'  when  you  say  in  the  same  breath  that  I  have  puffed  it?  Why 
do  you  not  ask  whether  I  have  not  picked  somebody's  pocket  since  I 

*  On  "  The  Unitarian  Belief,"  probably. 


362  POLITICAL    WARFARE. 

saw  you  ?  Read  it ! — yes — and  think  it  a  glorious  book.  Martineau 
— as  a  lady  of  my  acquaintance  calls  her — Martineau  is  a  little  ex 
travagant  in  her  raptures  about  it,  but  certainly  the  letters  are  a  noble 
composition,  and  do  the  author  infinite  honor.  The  Unitarian  clergy 
men  are  ready  to  tear  Miss  Martineau  into  rags  for  treating  them  so 
badly.  I  do  not  know  how  her  friend  Mr.  Ware  takes  her  general 
censure  of  the  class  to  which  he  belongs." 

"  NEW  YORK,  OCTOBER  25th  :  *  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for 
your  kind  offer,  and  if  I  were  at  liberty  I  should  like  nothing  better 
than  to  pass  a  year  in  Illinois.  But  I  am  fastened  here  for  the  pres 
ent.  The  4  Evening  Post '  cannot  be  disposed  of  in  these  times,  and, 
on  accounc  of  the  difficulty  of  making  collections,  its  income  does  not 
present  an  appearance  which  would  enable  me  to  sell  it  for  its  real 
value,  even  if  I  could  find  a  purchaser.  I  am  chained  to  the  oar  for 
another  year  at  least.  The  prospects  of  the  journal  are,  however,  im 
proving,  though  I  am  personally  no  better  for  it  at  present.  I  am 
very  much  perplexed  by  the  state  of  my  pecuniary  affairs.  I  have 
taken  a  house  in  town  at  as  moderate  a  rent  as  I  could  find,  and  ex 
pect  my  family  from  the  country  in  a  very  few  days.f  I  am  obliged  to 
practice  the  strictest  frugality — but  that  I  do  not  regard  as  an  evil. 
The  great  difficulty  lies  in  meeting  the  debts  in  which  the  purchase  of 
the  paper  has  involved  me." 

"NEW  YORK,  JUNE  28,  1838  :J  .  .  .  You  are  so  kind  as  to  wish 
to  be  informed  about  my  literary  projects.  I  have  no  time  for  such 
things.  When  I  went  to  Europe  the  *  Evening  Post '  was  producing 
a  liberal  income ;  Mr.  Leggett,  who  conducted  it,  espoused  very  zeal 
ously  the  cause  of  the  Abolitionists,  and  then  was  taken  ill.  The  busi 
ness  of  the  establishment  fell  into  the  hands  of  a  drunken  and  saucy 
clerk  to  manage,  and  the  hard  times  came  on.  All  these  things  had  a 
bad  effect  on  the  profits  of  the  paper,  and  when  I  returned  they  were 
reduced  to  little  or  nothing.  In  the  mean  time,  Mr.  Leggett  and  myself 
had  contracted  a  large  debt  for  the  purchase  of  the  'Evening  Post.' 
He  retired,  and  the  whole  was  left  on  my  shoulders.  I  have  been 


*  To  his  brother  John. 

f  The  house  was  in  Carmine  Street — a  not  very  fashionable  neighborhood. 
To  R.  H.  Dana. 


NO    TIME  FOR  POETRY.  363 

laboring  very  diligently  to  restore  the  paper  to  a  prosperous  state,  and 
begin  to  have  hopes  that  I  shall  retrieve  what  was  lost  during  my 
absence  in  Europe  by  careful  attention  to  the  business  of  the  paper, 
properly  so  called.  I  cannot  leave  the  establishment  till  I  have  put  it 
in  good  order.  Nobody  will  buy  it  of  me.  With  so  much  to  pay,  and 
with  a  paper  so  little  productive,  I  have  been  several  times  on  the 
point  of  giving  it  up,  and  going  out  into  the  world  worse  than  penni 
less.  Nothing  but  a  disposition  to  look  at  the  hopeful  side  of  things 
prevented  me,  and  I  now  see  reason  to  be  glad  that  I  persevered. 

"  I  have  no  leisure  for  poetry.  The  labors  in  which  I  am  engaged 
would  not,  perhaps,  be  great  to  many  people,  but  they  are  as  great  as  I 
can  endure  with  a  proper  regard  to  my  health.  I  cannot  pursue  in 
tellectual  labor  so  long  as  many  of  a  more  robust  or  less  nervous  tem 
perament.  My  constitution  requires  intervals  of  mental  repose.  To 
keep  myself  in  health  I  take  long  walks  in  the  country,  for  half  a  day, 
a  day,  or  two  days.  I  cannot  well  leave  my  business  for  a  longer 
period,  and  I  accustom  myself  to  the  greatest  simplicity  of  diet,  re 
nouncing  tea,  coffee,  animal  food,  etc.  By  this  means  I  enjoy  a 
health  scarcely  ever  interrupted,  but  when  I  am  fagged  I  hearken  to 
Nature  and  allow  her  to  recruit.  I  find  by  experience  that  this  must 
be  if  I  would  not  kill  myself.  What  you  say  of  living  happily  on 
small  means  I  agree  to  with  all  my  heart.  My  ideas  of  competence 
have  not  enlarged  a  single  dollar.  Indeed,  they  have  rather  been 
moderated  and  reduced  by  recent  events,  and  I  would  be  willing  to 
compound  for  a  less  amount  than  I  would  have  done  three  or  four 
years  since.  If  I  had  the  means  of  retiring,  I  would  go  into  the 
country,  where  I  could  adopt  a  simpler  mode  of  living,  and  follow  the 
bent  of  my  inclination  in  certain  literary  pursuits,  but  I  have  a  duty 
to  perform  to  my  creditors.  .  .  .  Mr.  Verplanck  I  see  only  now  and 
then  ;  I  used  to  see  him  almost  daily,  and  if  I  do  not  now,  it  is  because 
he  will  have  it  so.  He  is  kind,  however,  and  entertaining  when  I  see 
him.  Sedgwick  is  at  Rockaway,  getting  better,  I  am  told,  rapidly  in 
the  sea  air.  Morse  is  gone  to  Europe.  Cooper  does  not  live  here ; 
he  is  at  Cooperstown ;  but  he  calls  at  the  office  of  the  '  Evening  Post ' 
when  he  comes  to  town." 

Mr.  Dana's  reply  was  so  full  of  sympathy  and  good  sense 
that  a  part  of  it  is  worth  citing. 


364  POLITICAL    WARFARE. 

"  Some  portions  of  your  letter  have  made  me  feel  for  you.  I  had 
taken  it  for  granted  that  you  had  all  along  been  doing  well  in  your 
paper,  and  that,  if  your  desires  did  not  enlarge  along  with  your  means, 
you  would,  in  a  very  few  years  at  farthest,  go  back  into  the  country, 
and  chime  song  once  more  with  your  own  Green  River.  '  Ah,'  said 
Allston  to  me  a  few  days  ago  (or,  rather,  nights,  for  he  and  I  play 
the  owl  when  we  meet),  *  I  read  over  "  Green  River  "  the  other  night. 
That  man  is  a  true  poet,  his  heart  is  in  it.  What  he  gives  you  comes 
from  his  own  spirit.'  I  don't  like  thinking  of  it.  It  makes  me  sad 
whenever  it  comes  into  my  mind  that  you  are  laboring  on  the  broad, 
dusty,  public  highway,  and  your  flower-plot  all  the  while  lying  waste. 
Yet  I  do  not  see  how,  at  present,  you  can  choose  but  do  it.  You  have 
energy  and  perseverance,  and  these,  I  trust,  will  help  you  back  again, 
sooner  than  you  may  now  look  for,  to  a  situation  in  which  you  may 
live  your  true  life.  ...  I  am  sorry  that  Verplanck  should  estrange 
himself  from  you.*  I  hope  it  is  only  in  appearance  so.  Surely  he 
would  not  let  politics  come  in  between  him  and  you.  It  is  evil  enough 
that  moral  differences  should  sometimes  divide  us  as  they  do.  We 
might  for  the  most  part,  in  such  cases,  not  only  be  courteous  to  one 
another,  but  like  one  another  also,  without  harm  to  our  virtue.  And 
must  difference  of  opinions  make  the  faces  of  friends  strange  to  one 
another  ?  It  gives  one  the  heartache  to  think  on't.  Why,  what  would 
poor  I  do,  who,  believing  in  the  Triune,  and  unwounded  by  those  who 
hold  my  Divine  Master  to  be  nothing  but  a  man,  a  little  more  know 
ing  and  better  than  themselves,  mayhap  ?  Or  who,  either  earthing 
themselves  in  materialism,  or  pleasing  their  fancies  with  a  bigger  air- 
bubble  called  spiritualism,  have  worked  themselves  clear  of  nearly  all 
that  gives  life  to  faith,  and  power  and  sanctity  to  the  Word  of  God  ? 
What  should  I  do,  who,  living  in  a  country  like  this,  am  head  and 
heart  an  old-fashioned  monarchist,  and  who,  if  an  Englishman,  should, 
aside  from  expediency,  be  in  heart  a  stiff  Tory,  rather  than  a  yielding 
Conservative.  If  there  are  points  in  which  we  can  sympathize,  why 
should  we  not  break  off  the  anti-pathetic  points,  and  go  along  quietly 
together  without  goading  one  another  ?  " 

*  This  estrangement  was  political,  not  personal,  and  grew  out  of  Mr.  Verplanck's 
course  in  respect  to  the  United  States  Bank.  When  he  was  nominated  for  office  by 
the  friends  of  that  institution,  Mr.  Bryant  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  oppose  him. 


CHAPTER  NINETEENTH. 

RECREATIONS,  VISITORS,  ETC. 
A.  D.    1839. 

MR.  BRYANT'S  labors,  of  which  he  complains,  were  certainly 
harder  during  these  years  than  at  any  period  of  his  life,  be 
fore  or  since ;  but  they  were  not  without  reliefs,  and  even 
compensations.  They  did  not  wear  upon  him  as  they  might 
have  done  otherwise,  because  of  his  habit  of  never  carrying 
the  shop  with  him.  The  moment  he  stepped  outside  the  office 
its  cares  and  anxieties  were  cast  aside.  At  his  home  he  utterly 
refused  to  talk  of  public  affairs,  or  to  hear  others  talk  of  them, 
and  any  one  who  persisted  in  thrusting  such  topics  upon  him 
was  silenced.  His  leisure  he  regarded  as  a  time  sacred  to 
his  books,  his  family,  and  his  friends.  In  this  way  he  kept  his 
mind  fresh  and  alert ;  the  jaded  faculties  were  relieved  by 
pleasant  gambols  in  the  realms  of  fancy ;  the  imagination  was 
supplied  with  new  materials ;  and  the  affections  warmed  and 
solaced  by  the  sweet  amenities  of  the  home. 

A  good  deal  of  the  leisure  that  fell  to  him  in  these  busy 
days  he  spent  in  the  study  of  the  German  language,  with  which 
he  had  made  a  beginning  at  Heidelberg.  The  lectures  given 
by  Dr.  Charles  Pollen  on  the  German  poets  perhaps  quickened 
his  zeal  in  this  direction,  but  more  decidedly  the  singular  en 
thusiasm  of  his  teacher,  the  Baron  Ludwig  von  Mandlesloe. 
This  was  a  simple-hearted,  self-sacrificing,  noble-minded  man, 
who  had  abandoned  to  younger  brothers  a  considerable  herit 
age  at  home,  to  share  the  fortunes  of  this  republic,  which  he 


366  RECREATIONS,    VISITORS,  ETC. 

admired.  Pursuing  the  precarious  life  of  a  teacher,  he  yet 
gave  his  scanty  gains,  his  time,  his  health  even,  to  the  poor, 
the  sick,  and  the  ignorant.  His  native  literature  he  loved 
almost  as  much  as  he  loved  his  kind,  and  he  found  in  Mr. 
Bryant  an  eager  and  sympathetic  pupil.  Their  walks  together 
beyond  the  suburbs  were  made  vocal  with  the  strains  of 
Goethe,  Schiller,  Riickert,  Heine,  which  the  good  baron  rolled 
out  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  But  not  in  the  fields  alone  they 
walked ;  their  steps  often  turned  to  the  wharves,  where  newly 
arrived  emigrants  needed  his  care,  or  to  the  thickly  peopled 
tenements  of  the  eastern  side,  whither  he  went  to  carry  aid 
and  consolation.  Through  him  Mr.  Bryant  was  led  to  that 
warm  concern  for  the  German  race  which,  to  the  end  of  his 
life,  he  was  quick  to  manifest.  The  good  baron's  privations 
and  labors,  however,  soon  wore  him  out.  He  was  sent  to 
Berkshire  for  his  health,  where  he  fell  into  the  kind  hands 
of  the  Sedgwicks,  who  ministered  to  his  sufferings  till  he 
died.* 

Another  recreation  Mr.  Bryant  found  in  the  long  pedes 
trian  tours  to  which  he  devoted  his  summer  vacations.  Every 
day  he  spent  two  or  three  hours  in  exploring  on  foot  the  im 
mediate  vicinity  of  the  city — Westchester,  Hoboken,  and  Long 
Island ;  but  when  he  could  get  a  week  or  more  to  himself,  he  ex 
tended  his  excursions  to  the  Palisades,  to  the  Delaware  Water 
Gap,  to  the  Catskills,  and  to  his  own  beautiful  valleys  of  Berk 
shire.  He  generally  went  alone,  but  preferred  a  companion, 
if  he  could  procure  one.  Mr.  Ferdinand  E.  Field,  now  of  Eng 
land,  speaks  of  him  in  a  letter  to  me  as  the  "  most  indefatiga 
ble  tramp  that  he  ever  grappled  with.  A  baker's  biscuit  and 
a  few  apples  seemed  to  suffice  him  for  food ;  and  he  put  up 
cheerfully  with  the  rude  fare  of  wayside  inns  and  laborers' 
cottages.  His  knowledge  of  soils  and  seasons,  and  his  interest 
in  agriculture,  and  the  modes  of  life  and  opinions  of  the 
farmers,  soon  got  him  into  pleasant  chats  with  the  people  we 

*  Miss  Scdgwick  wrote  a  long  memoir  of  him  for  one  of  the  magazines. 


FEN/MORE  COOPER.  367 

encountered."  It  would  be  impossible,  says  Mr.  Field,  to  de 
scribe  his  delight  in  wild  flowers  and  trees,  every  one  of  which 
seemed  to  be  an  old  acquaintance.* 

Mr.  Bryant  used  to  complain  that  so  many  Americans  go 
to  Europe  to  drive  or  walk  over  Wales,  Scotland,  or  Switzer 
land,  who  have  never  taken  the  trouble  to  visit  scenes  of  al 
most  unequalled  natural  beauty  and  magnificence  within  sight 
of  their  windows.  "  The  western  shore  of  the  Hudson,  for 
example,"  he  once  wrote,  "  is  as  worthy  of  a  pilgrimage  across 
the  Atlantic  as  the  Alps  themselves.  You  are  kept  in  perpet 
ual  surprise  by  the  bold  beauty  of  the  sylvan  paths  along  the 
breast  of  the  mountains,  and  by  the  perpetually  changing  com 
binations  of  wood,  water,  rock,  and  hills ;  while,  from  time  to 
time,  an  interest  of  another  kind  is  awakened  by  numerous 
remains  of  old  fortifications,  which,  in  the  revolutionary  war, 
crowned  nearly  all  the  prominent  points."  Mr.  Bryant  wrote 
glowing  descriptions  of  these  trips  for  his  journal,  which  must 
have  had  an  effect  in  exciting  a  more  general  appreciation  and 
love  of  our  own  landscape.  Certainly  the  trips  themselves 
helped  to  make  him  that  loving  and  truthful  painter  of  its 
beauties  that  he  was  in  his  poetry,  justifying  the  praise  of 
Emerson,  "  that  he  first,  and  he  only,  made  known  to  mankind 
our  northern  nature — its  summer  splendors,  its  autumn  russets, 
its  wintry  lights  and  glooms."  f 

Nor  was  it  all  hard  work  within  the  office,  as  many  distin 
guished  visitors  came  to  relieve  its  monotony  by  their  talk. 
Among  them  was  Cooper,  who,  as  Mr.  Bryant  says,  always 

*  On  one  of  these  tours,  Mr.  Field  narrates,  they  stopped  over  night  at  the  inn 
of  a  small  village,  when  the  landlord,  by  some  means  or  other,  discovered  the  name 
of  one  of  his  guests.  Word  was  soon  passed  to  all  his  Democratic  cronies  of  the  vil 
lage  that  the  great  New  York  editor,  Bryant,  was  in  town,  which  brought  the  whole 
of  them  in  quick  time  to  the  hotel.  Then,  after  a  loud  hurrah  for  Bryant,  they  set  up 
a  shout  for  a  speech,  a  speech,  which  annoyed  the  poet  very  much.  lie  was  doubtful 
for  a  time  whether  he  should  fly  out  upon  them  in  anger  or  skulk  away  by  the  back 
door ;  but  his  companion  was  enabled  to  allay  the  little  storm  by  explaining  that 
"  the  great  editor  "  was  tired  to  death  with  a  long  day's  work,  and  had  gone  to  bed. 

f  A-.klre.ss  at  the  Century  celebration,  in  1864. 


368  RECREATIONS,    VISITORS,  ETC. 

called  when  he  was  in  town.  '  The  difference  between  the  two 
men  was  very  striking,  and  yet  their  intercourse  was  singu 
larly  c6urteous  and  agreeable.  Cooper,  burly,  brusque,  and 
boisterous,  like  a  bluff  sailor,  always  bringing  a  breeze  of 
quarrel  with  him ;  Mr.  Bryant,  shy,  modest,  and  delicate  as  a 
woman — they  seemed  little  fitted  for  friendship.  Yet  Bryant 
admired  not  only  the  genius,  but  the  thorough-paced  honesty 
and  sturdy  independence  of  Cooper ;  and  Cooper,  while  he 
appreciated  the  finer  vein  of  the  poet,  was  won  by  his  able  and 
fearless  vindication  of  opinions  with  which  he  himself  did  not 
always  agree.  "  We  others,"  Cooper  once  said,  "  get  a  little 
praise  now  and  then,  but  Bryant  is  the  author  of  America." 
In  spite  of  his  positive  and,  at  times,  overbearing  manner,  the 
novelist  was  a  fascinating  companion.  Having  seen  much  of 
the  world — first,  as  a  naval  officer,  who  had  traversed  the 
greater  part  of  its  surface,  then,  as  the  friend  of  Lafayette,  in 
Paris,  who  procured  him  an  entrance  to  the  best  French  soci 
ety,  and,  finally,  as  somewhat  of  a  literary  lion  in  London — he 
was  able  to  fill  his  conversation  with  pictures  and  anecdotes 
of  the  men  and  things  he  had  seen.  He  had  a  great  deal  to 
say  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  whom  he  really  admired  ;  but,  having 
been  called,  according  to  a  silly  prevalent  fashion,  the  Scott 
of  America,  he  seemed  to  resent  it  as  a  reflection  upon  his 
originality,  and  indulged  in  some  sharp  criticisms  of  the  great 
novelist.  Lockhart,  he  averred,  had  tampered  with  the  diaries 
of  his  father-in-law  in  preparing  the  "  Life  of  Scott,"  and  fell 
under  his  severest  animadversions.  But  the  great  objects  of 
his  dislike  were  the  French  romancers,  of  whom  Eugene  Sue 
was  then  a  chief,  and  whose  descriptions  of  society  he  pulled 
to  pieces  with  an  unsparing  sarcasm  and  ridicule. 

A  very  different  view  of  French  literature  was  taken  by 
another  habitual  caller,  Major  Auguste  Davezac — a  brother-in- 
law  of  Edward  Livingston — who  had  been  an  aide-de-camp  of 
Jackson  at  New  Orleans,  and  remained  an  ardent  admirer  and 
trusted  friend  of  the  old  hero  to  the  day  of  his  death.  He  was 
a  bachelor  or  widower,  with  time  and  means  enough  to  make 


J.  J.  AUDUBOX.  369 

himself  familiar  with  nearly  all  the  recent  products  of  the 
French  press,  and  ready  to  repeat  their  contents  with  an  ex- 
haustless  memory,  and  a  facile  and  impressive  elocution.  It 
was  like  listening  to  one  of  the  best  of  the  French  romances 
or  memoirs,  read  aloud,  to  hear  him  talk ;  and,  though  an 
intense  democrat  in  his  political  convictions,  his  reading  had 
been  so  wide,  and  his  tastes  were  so  choice,  that,  whatever 
his  subject,  he  was  invariably  delightful.  He  commonly  timed 
his  visits  to  the  exigencies  of  the  office,  but,  come  when  he 
would,  all  pens  were  dropped,  and  all  ears  opened,  to  catch 
some  of  his  sprightly  or  fervid  utterances.* 

Another  visitor,  about  that  time,  whom  we  were  always 
glad  to  see,  was  John  L.  Stephens,  the  traveller — a  small,  sharp, 
nervous  man — full  of  his  adventures  in  Arabia  Petrsea,  Nu 
bia,  and  elsewhere  in  the  Old  World,  and  among  the  buried 
cities  of  Central  America.  His  books,  now  mostly  forgotten, 
had  considerable  vogue  then,  and  we  were  permitted  to  an 
ticipate  the  public  in  a  considerable  part  of  their  contents. 
But  Stephens  was  suffering  from  the  effects  of  a  fever  caught 
at  Chagres,  which  speedily  carried  him  off,  to  the  great  loss 
of  our  literature  of  travel. 

More  captivating  than  Stephens  was  the  venerable  Au- 
dubon,  the  naturalist,  still  fresh  from  his  wanderings  over  the 
continent,  from  Labrador  to  the  capes  of  Florida,  and  from 
the  Alleghanies  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  He  was  a  tall,  well- 
formed,  athletic  figure,  as  straight  as  an  Indian,  with  a  face 
bronzed  by  exposure,  eyes  as  bright  as  those  of  any  of  his  own 
birds,  an  eagle  beak,  and  tresses  of  white  hair  that  fell  upon 
his  shoulders.  His  voice  was  soft  and  gentle,  but  with  an  ac 
cent  and  vivacity  derived  from  his  French  blood.  He  never 
wearied  in  telling,  nor  was  the  listener  wearied  in  hearing,  of 
his  exploits  in  the  solitudes  of  the  forests  among  wild  beasts 
or  wilder  Indians,  or  of  his  meetings  with  distinguished  men  in 
Europe — Goethe,  Cuvier,  Champollion,  Lucien  Bonaparte, 
Wilson,  Louis  Philippe  and  other  crowned  heads — such  as  are 

*  He  was  afterward  our  minister  at  the  Hague. 
VOL.  i. — 25 


370  RECREATIONS,    VISITORS,  ETC. 

described  in  the  narratives  prefixed  to  his  volumes.  He  got 
up  an  exhibition  of  his  original  drawings  of  birds,  in  the  Ly 
ceum  rooms,  which  was  wonderfully  beautiful ;  and,  old  as 
he  was,  contemplated  new  visits  to  the  woods,  to  paint  the 
quadrupeds,  as  he  had  painted  the  birds,  of  America.  His 
house,  in  a  small  park,  beyond  the  skirts  of  the  city,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Hudson,  was  a  delightful  place  to  visit,  and 
strollers  of  a  Sunday  morning,  who  happened  in  upon  the 
venerable  artist,  found  him  at  his  easel  hard  at  work,  but 
always  ready  to  pour  out  his  descriptions  of  his  long  and 
solitary  journeys. 

Other  literary  men  were  rather  occasional  than  habitual 
visitors  :  Bancroft,  drawn  by  the  double  sympathy  of  literature 
and  politics ;  Wm.  G.  Simms,  of  South  Carolina,  a  voluble 
talker,  who  desired  to  set  us  right  on  the  Southern  question ; 
Edgar  Poe,  if  I  mistake  not,  once  or  twice,  to  utter  nothing,  but 
to  look  his  reverence  out  of  wonderful  lustrous  eyes,  besides 
a  host  of  the  lesser  lights  from  the  eastward,  reflecting  the  in 
spirations  and  affectations  of  Thomas  Carlyle.  That  luminary 
had  risen  only  a  little  before  upon  the  horizon.  "  Have  you 
read  Carlyle's  Miscellanies?"  wrote  Bryant  to  Miss  Sands;* 
"  you  will  like  them  better  than  his  History.  In  Boston  they 
are  all  agog  after  him,  and  they  will  take  up  Kant  next."  Not 
in  Boston  only,  but  everywhere  young  men  sat  up  of  nights 
to  master  the  fascinating  but  nebulous  philosophy  of  Teufels- 
drockh.  Mr.  Bryant  was  not  caught  by  the  rage.  He  read 
Carlyle  attentively,  and  was  not  insensible  to  his  Rembrandt- 
like  power  of  portraiture,  or  his  broad  floods  of  sardonic  hu 
mor,  mingled  with  tender  touches  of  pathos  here  and  there ; 
but  his  taste  was  offended  by  the  too  obvious  gymnastics  of 
Carlyle's  style,  and  his  cynical  worship  of  force  of  the  gun 
powder  kind.  He  allowed  his  younger  assistants  to  ventilate 
their  admiration  of  the  Scotchman  as  of  one  destined  to  ex 
plode  all  shams,  and  crush  out  all  evil,  but  with  a  furtive,  in- 

*  July  20,  1838. 


ll'RITERS. 


371 


credulous  smile  as  he  read  their  proofs.  Nor  was  he  at  all 
involved  in  that  contemporary  fog  of  thought  called  Trans 
cendentalism  which  pervaded  the  New  England  hills.  For 
Kmerson  the  chief,  whom  he  regarded  as  greatly  superior  to 
Carlyle  in  clearness  and  depth  of  insight  as  in  grace  of  dic 
tion,  he  always  expressed  strong  admiration,  but  he  took  no 
pleasure  in  his  mere  metaphysical  subtleties. 

<%  What  pleasure  lives  in  heights,  the  shepherd  said, 
In  height  and  cold,  the  splendor  of  the  hills." 

His  interest  in  Emerson,  I  think,  was  rather  in  the  American 
writer  than  the  philosopher.  Nothing  likely  to  exalt  our  lit 
erary  rank  ever  escaped  him.  "  Have  you  read  (he  once  said 
to  me)  the  tales  of  one  Hawthorne  (almost  an  unknown  writer 
then)  in  the  '  Democratic  Review  '  ?  They  are  wonderful,  and 
the  best  English  written  on  either  side  the  Atlantic."  To  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Ware,  who  had  just  collected  his  "  Letters  from  Pal 
myra"  into  a  volume,  he  wrote  (September  19,  1838): 

"  MY  DEAR  WARE  :  I  should  have  written  earlier  to  thank  you  for 
your  last  beautiful  and  eloquent  work,  but  you  know  how  to  make 
allowances  for  one  who  is  daily  obliged  to  write  more  than  he  cares 
for,  and  has  no  way  of  indemnifying  himself  but  by  bilking  his  corre 
spondents.  I  am  glad  that  you  have  spoken  to  the  public  through 
the  press.  Everybody  reads  and  admires  your  books.  You  are  much 
better  known  here  than  when  you  lived  among  us.  Your  old  hearers 
now  plume  themselves  not  a  little  upon  your  new  reputation,  and  hold 
their  heads  high,  I  assure  you." 

A  little  while  before  this,  when  Mr.  Prescott's  "  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella"  appeared  (April,  1838),  having  read  it  with  de 
light,  he  took  great  pains  to  commend  it  to  public  favor  in  a 
long  and  elaborate  article  which  anticipated  most  of  the  Re 
views.  Mr.  Prcscott  was  a  stranger  to  him,  but  he  saw  in  the 
work  a  new  triumph  for  American  letters  ;  and,  when  his  friend 
Miss  Robbins  was  on  a  visit  to  the  East,  he  charged  her  par- 


372  RECREATIONS,    VISITORS,   ETC. 

ticularly  to  tell  him  all  about  Prescott.  To  this  injunction  we 
probably  owe  the  following  letter  from  Nahant,  August  26th, 
which  shows  the  historian  at  home : 

"  MY  DEAR  FRIENDS  :  .  .  .  Last  evening  (but  one)  I  went  to  see 
Mr.  Prescott,  who  is  our  next  neighbor.  I  have  come,  from  having 
much  curiosity  about  great  people,  to  regard  them  with  utter  distaste ; 
but  I  must  say  the  historian  of  *  Ferdinand  and  Isabella '  is  an  excep 
tion.  He  is  made  to  be  loved,  so  amiable,  unaffected,  and  even 
youthful,  does  he  appear.  I  will  not  say  *  childlike,'  I  have  heard  that 
word  so  often  used  in  mere  affectation.  Mr.  Prescott,  though  the 
father  of  a  family,  has  never  left  his  paternal  home.  His  beautiful 
wife  and  pretty  children  are  cherished  with  the  fondest  love  by  the 
venerable  heads  of  the  house.  Both,  like  the  good  man  whose 
*  Funeral '  you  have  so  exquisitely  described,  are  prepared  by  pure 
and  useful  lives  for  whatever  is  to  come.  We  fell  to  talking  at  Mr. 
Prescott's  of  the  late  Admiral  Coffin,  who  happened  to  be  a  rela 
tive  of  both  our  families,  and  I — I  could  not  help  it — ran  into  end 
less  genealogies,  with  which  Mr.  Prescott  helped  me,  and  we  were 
all  amused  with  the  pleasant  traditionary  lore  which  each  furnished. 
Mr.  Prescott  spends  about  ten  hours  of  the  twenty-four  in  his  studies, 
always  indebted  to  other  eyes  than  his  own.  At  early  morning  he 
educates  his  children,  and  at  evening  may  generally  be  found  with 
his  father  and  mother.  They  give  no  parties,  and  all  live  the  life  of 


*  Miss  Robbins  adds,  what  I  cannot  forbear  from  quoting  : 

"  Yesterday  I  read  Dr.  Bowditch's  memoir,  prefixed  to  the  translation  of  the 
'  Mechanique  Celeste.'  I  will  tell  you  how  his  son  has  affixed  your  name  to  this 
great  work,  now  in  possession,  by  the  gift  of  the  author's  family,  of  the  most  distin 
guished  persons  living.  In  his  library  and  in  his  great  mind  he  had  a  '  poet's  cor 
ner.'  Among  the  poets  of  America,  Bryant  was  his  favorite.  He  has  often  said  that 
he  thought  '  The  Old  Man's  Funeral '  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  pieces  in  the 
English  language.  Never  can  it  be  hereafter  perused  by  us  without  recalling  one  of 
the  most  interesting  and  touching  scenes  at  the  close  of  his  own  life.  His  love  of 
poetry  was  such  that  it  entered  into  his  most  familiar  thoughts.  The  last  draught 
of  water  he  ever  took,  he  exclaimed,  '  Delicious  !  I  have  swallowed  a  drop — a  drop 
from 

'  Siloa's  brook  that  flowed 
Fast  by  the  oracle  of  God.' 


••  Tll'O    YEARS  BEFORE   THE  .VAST."  3^3 

One  of  his  services  to  literature  at  this  time  was  rend 
through  the  son  of  his  friend  Dana,  who,  in  the  year  1834,  had 
been  compelled  by  an  affection  of  his  eyes  to  abandon  his 
studies  at  Harvard  and  undertake  a  sea  voyage.  Instead  of 
going  to  Europe,  as  most  young  men  would  have  done,  Dana 
resolved  on  a  trip,  by  way  of  the  South  Seas,  to  California, 
then  quite  unknown.  In  order  to  get  the  full  benefit  of  his 
expedition,  he  shipped  before  the  mast,  and  kept  a  diary  of  his 
experiences  which  he  condensed  into  a  book  called  "  Two 
Years  before  the  Mast."  The  elder  Dana  sent  it  to  Mr.  Bryant 
with  a  request  that  he  would  read  it,  and  get  a  publisher  for 
it  if  he  approved.  Mr.  Bryant  was  so  struck  by  its  originality, 
vigor,  and  truth,  that  he  at  once  set  about  bringing  it  before 
the  public.  But  he  found  that  the  trade  was  quite  indisposed 
to  take  hold  of  the  book,  and  his  letters  relating  to  his  efforts 
are  interesting  as  showing  what  a  parturition  good  books  are 
sometimes  compelled  to  go  through.  He  wrote  to  the  father, 
June  24,  1839: 


"  I  will  now  tell  Mrs.  Eryant  what  he  said  of  his  wife,  to  whom  the  '  Me"cha- 
nique  Celeste '  is  dedicated.  '  This  translation  and  commentary  are  dedicated,  by 
the  author,  to  the  memory  of  his  wife,  Mary  Bowditch,  who  devoted  herself  to  her 
domestic  avocations  with  great  judgment,  unceasing  kindness,  and  a  zeal  which 
could  not  be  surpassed,  taking  upon  herself  the  whole  care  of  her  family,  and  thus 
procuring  for  him  the  leisure  hours  to  prepare  the  work,  and  securing  to  him,  by  her 
prudent  management,  the  means  for  publication  in  its  present  form,  which  she  fully 
approved  ;  and  without  her  approbation  the  work  would  not  have  been  undertaken.' 
This  lady  consented  that  $12,000  of  their  small  property,  with  no  prospect  of  reim 
bursement,  should  be  appropriated  to  the  work  in  question.  Dr.  Bowditch  particu 
larly  honored  the  female  sex.  Seventy-five  pages  of  the  translation  were  the  work 
of  his  accomplished  daughter-in-law.  I  like  that  women  should  receive  their  due, 
from  great  men  especially.  At  Cambridge  I  found  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ware,  dwelling  in 
great  content  among  their  own  people.  I  wish  you  were  both  here.  Mr.  Bryant  is 
so  much  admired  at  Boston,  I  am  afraid  he  would  be  worried  with  homages,  but  they 
would  be  honest.  Mr.  Grattan  (author  of  '  Highways  and  By-ways ')  is  here,  and 
says  (he  is  an  Irishman)  that  he  is  astonished  and  delighted  with  the  refinement, 
cordiality,  and  apparent  happiness  of  American  society.  The  absence  of  mendicity 
and  a  degraded  lower  order  is  a  perpetual  delight  to  one  from  the  other  side,  if  he 
is  '  a  man  and  a  brother!  " 


374  RECREATIONS,    VISITORS,   ETC. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  I  have  no  better  account  to  give  of  my  success  in 
the  commission  with  which  you  intrusted  me.  I  have  seen  the  Har 
pers,  and  do  not  find  them  disposed  to  publish  the  book  at  all  at  pres 
ent.  Three  of  the  brothers  were  together — there  are  four  of  them  in 
all — and  the  one  who  had  the  conversation  with  your  friend,  Mr. 
Woods,  after  saying  a  few  words,  went  out.  The  others  then  told  me 
that  James  Harper,  who  had  made  the  offer  to  Mr.  Woods,  had  never 
laid  the  matter  before  them,  that  they  did  not  object  to  the  book,  that 
they  had  no  doubt  a  publisher  might  be  found  for  it,  etc.,  and  that 
the  best  way  would  be  for  me  to  write  to  you  and  advise  that,  since 
two  chapters  were  to  be  written,  the  author  should  finish  the  work  and 
offer  it  to  them,  or  to  Carey,  Lee  &  Blanchard,  of  Philadelphia,  in  the 
autumn.  I  told  them  that  the  two  chapters  might  be  written  off-hand, 
that  the  book  was,  in  fact,  finished  already,  and  that  I  had  come  to 
make  final  terms.  They  were  engaged  with  so  many  publications — 
some  new,  but  the  principal  part  the  old  publications  which  are 
stereotyped — that  really  they  could  not  engage  to  get  out  your  son's 
work  at  present ;  they  thought  they  should  be  very  glad  to  do  so  in 
the  autumn,  but  could  not  now  make  any  bargain." 

He  next  applied  to  Appleton,  then  to  Coleman,  to  Wiley 
&  Putnam,  and  "  they  all  with  one  accord  made  excuse." 
Finally,  he  turned  to  Philadelphia,  and  October  2d  again 
wrote  to  the  father  : 

"  I  have  been  obliged  to  give  up  the  idea  of  effecting  the  publica 
tion  of  your  son's  work.  I  wrote  to  Lea  &  Blanchard,  of  Philadelphia, 
stating  as  fully  as  I  was  able  its  merits  and  its  prospects  of  applause 
and  success.  They  returned  a  polite  answer,  in  which  they  declined 
publishing  it  on  account  of '  the  depressed  state  of  the  trade  of  the 
country.'  They  were  compelled,  they  said,  to  '  avoid  making  new 
literary  engagements  unless  they  were  of  a  nature  of  the  success  of 
which  they  could  not  doubt.'  Books  of  voyages  and  travels,  they 
added,  do  not  often  pay  the  publisher,  much  less  the  author.  Finally, 
with  an  apology  for  offering  their  advice,  they  say  that,  in  their  opin 
ion,  the  best  thing  Mr.  Dana  can  do  is  to  find  some  publisher  in  Bos 
ton,  where  his  family  connection  is  so  well  known,  who  would  under 
take  its  publication,  etc." 


DEATH  OF  LEGGETT.  375 

Repulsed  on  every  side,  Mr.  Bryant  was  yet  determined 
not  to  yield;  and  he  resumed  negotiations  with  the  Harper 
Brothers,  who  were  induced  to  bring  out  the  book  the  next 
year  (1840).  Mr.  Bryant  gave  it  a  good  send-off  in  the  "  liven 
ing  Post,"  and  procured  one  review  of  it  by  his  friend 
Theodore  Sedgwick,  Jr.,  for  the  "  New  York  Review,"  and 
another,  by  another  hand,  for  the  "  Democratic  Review."  But 
these  friendly  services  were  needless.  The  book  spoke  for 
itself,  and  the  public  recognized  its  merits  as  soon  as  it  was 
issued.  Old  seamen  bore  witness  to  its  fidelity,  the  public 
schools  ordered  it  for  their  libraries,  and  preachers  even  men 
tioned  it  from  their  pulpits  as  an  admirable  cure  for  that  form 
of  youthful  sea-sickness  which  consists  in  a  frenzied  desire  to 
go  to  sea.  Ten  thousand  copies  were  speedily  sold  in  this 
country ;  and  in  England,  where  it  was  republished,  the  sale 
was  quite  as  great.  Since  then,  edition  after  edition  of  it  has 
been  printed,  and  the  work  may  be  said  to  have  taken  its 
place  among  the  classics  of  adventure.* 

Just  before  the  receipt  of  Mr.  Dana's  first  letter,  Mr.  Bryant 
was  called  upon  to  deplore  the  loss  of  his  old  colleague,  Leg- 
gett,  whose  health  had  been  impaired  by  too  assiduous  labor 
while  he  was  in  the  "  Evening  Post,"  and  whose  attempt  to 
manage  a  periodical  of  his  own  only  increased  the  disorder. 
It  brought  on  bilious  attacks,  accompanied  by  great  suffering 
and  an  utter  prostration  of  strength.  A  timely  retirement  to 
his  country  seat  in  New  Rochelle  mitigated  his  pains,  and  it 
was  thought  that  he  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  accept  the  ap 
pointment  of  Chargt  d  'Affaires  to  Guatemala,  in  Central  Amer 
ica,  which  Mr.  Van  Burcn,  whom  he  had  often  assailed,  mag 
nanimously  tendered  him  ;  but  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  an 
attack  of  more  than  usual  malignity  supervened,  and  he  died 
in  less  than  three  days,  in  the  thirty-ninth  year  of  his  age 
(May,  1839).  Mr-  Bryant,  besides  celebrating  his  virtues  in 

*  I  endeavored  to  procure  from  the  Messrs.  Harper  the  precise  number  of  copies 
sold,  but,  owing  to  a  loss  of  some  of  their  early  accounts  by  fire,  they  could  not  com 
ply  with  my  request. 


376  RECREATIONS,    VISITORS,  ETC. 

verse,  prepared  a  brief  memoir  of  him,  which  was  published 
in  the  "  Democratic  Review,"  and  he  assisted  Theodore  Sedg- 
wick,  Jr.,  in  compiling  two  volumes  of  his  editorial  writings, 
which  were  issued  the  next  year.* 

The  winter  of  1839  promised  to  be  more  than  usually 
pleasant  for  Mr.  Bryant,  for  one  of  his  friends,  Dr.  Follen, 
was  completing  a  highly  instructive  course  of  lectures  on  the 
life  and  poems  of  Schiller;  another,  wrho  was  staying  with 
him,  Mr.  Dana,  had  come  on  from  Boston  to  deliver  a  course 
on  the  dramas  of  Shakespeare  (full,  as  I  recollect  them,  of  pro 
found  remark  and  nice  criticism) ;  and  a  third,  Mr.  Longfellow, 
was  delighting  brilliant  audiences  with  his  graceful  delinea 
tions  of  the  characters  of  Moliere.  Once,  when  the  two  latter 
were  Mr.  Bryant's  guests  at  a  dinner,  they  were  joined  by 
Halleck,  and  thus  the  four  most  famous  poets  that  our  litera 
ture  had  yet  produced  were  brought  together,  and  their  con 
versations,  we  may  well  suppose,  if  they  could  have  been 
reported,  would  have  added  a  lively  chapter  to  the  best 
chronicles  of  table-talk.  Dana  and  Halleck  were  men  of  the 
past  in  politics  and  religion ;  Bryant  and  Longfellow  men  of 
the  present  and  future ;  and,  while  there  was  a  good  deal  of 


*  "  The  Political  Writings  of  William  Leggett."  New  York :  Harper  &  Brothers, 
1840.  For  the  Democratic  young  men  who  erected  a  monument  to  his  memory  at 
New  Rochelle  he  also  wrote  this  inscription  : 

TO     WILLIAM     LEGGETT, 

THE  ELOQUENT  JOURNALIST, 
WHOSE   GENIUS,    DISINTERESTEDNESS,    AND   COURAGE 

ENNOBLED      HIS      PROFESSION  ; 
WHO     LOVED     TRUTH     FOR     ITS     OWN     SAKE, 

AND   ASSERTED   IT   WITH   MOST  ARDOUR 
WHEN   WEAK   MINDS   WERE   MOST   DISMAYED   BY  OPPOSITION; 

WHO   COULD   ENDURE   NO   TYRANNY, 
AND   RAISED   HIS  VOICE   AGAINST  ALL   INJUSTICE, 

AGAINST  WHOMSOEVER  COMMITTED 
AND     WHOEVER     WERE     ITS     AUTHORS— 

THE    DEMOCRATIC     YOUNG    MEN    OF    NEW    YORK, 
SORROWING     THAT     A     CAREER     SO     GLORIOUS 

SHOULD   HAVE   CLOSED   SO   PREMATURELY, 
HAVE     ERECTED     THIS     MONUMENT. 


CHARLES  POLLEN. 


3/7 


reciprocal  admiration  among  them,  there'  was  contrast  and 
antagonism  enough  to  bring  out  many  a  fiery  spark.  But 
the  intercourse  of  the  poets  was  suddenly  dashed  by  the  mel 
ancholy  death  of  Charles  Pollen,  who  was  known  to  all,  and 
an  esteemed  friend  of  two  of  them — Bryant  and  Longfellow. 
Follen  was  a  passenger  on  the  steamer  Lexington,  on  her  voy 
age  from  New  York  to  Providence,  during  a  dark,  cold,  and 
tempestuous  night,  when  she  was  burned  to  the  water's  edge, 
and  nearly  all  on  board  perished  in  the  flames,  or  by  cold,  or 
amid  crushing  fields  of  ice  (January  13,  1840).  Well  known 
in  Boston  and  New  York,  haying  formed  many  friendships 
among  their  more  distinguished  citizens,  the  shock  of  the 
calamity  was  felt  in  both  cities.  Only  a  little  while  before  the 
event,  Mr.  Bryant  had  written  a  vigorous  article  on  the  want 
of  proper  precautions  for  the  safety  of  passengers  on  these 
very  steamers,  and  his  words  came  back  to  him  as  prophe 
cies.  Follen  was  a  native  of  Hesse  Darmstadt,  early  distin 
guished  for  his  learning  and  liberal  sentiments.  Connected 
with  the  Burschenschaft,  and  author  of  several  patriotic  odes, 
he  fell  under  the  suspicion  of  the  government,  and  was  driven, 
first  from  Giessen,  then  from  Jena,  and  finally  from  Switzer 
land,  because  of  his  opinions.  Coming  to  the  United  States, 
he  secured  appointments  at  Harvard,  and  ultimately  married 
an  eminent  American  lady,  Miss  Eliza  Lee  Cabot,  by  whom 
his  memoirs  were  written.  "  He  was,"  says  Mr.  Bryant,  who 
respected  him  highly,  and  became  strongly  attached  to  him, 
"  a  man  of  vigorous  intellect,  much  cultivated  in  the  various 
departments  of  knowledge,  and  of  calm  and  solid  judgment. 
His  experience  of  the  evils  of  arbitrary  government,  joined  to 
a  feeling  of  universal  good-will,  and  the  genial  spirit  of  hope, 
which  was  ever  strong  in  him,  led  him  to  embrace  the  purest 
democratic  principles.  The  world  had  not  a  firmer,  a  more 
ardent,  a  more  consistent  friend  of  human  liberty.  His  pas 
sions,  naturally  energetic,  were  all  so  perfectly  subjected  to 
the  control  of  the  higher  qualities  of  his  character,  that,  al 
though  you  saw  they  were  not  extinct,  you  saw,  also,  that  they 


378  RECREATIONS,    VISITORS,   ETC. 

were  held  in  place  and  overruled  by  justice  and  benevolence. 
No  man  could  have  known  him,  even  slightly,  without  being 
strongly  impressed  by  the  surpassing  benignity  of  his  temper. 
He  is  taken  from  us  by  a  mysterious  Providence,  in  the  midst 
of  his  usefulness. 

"  '  It  was  that  fatal  and  perfidious  bark, 

Built  in  the  eclipse,  and  rigged  with  curses  dark, 
That  sank  so  low  that  sacred  head  of  thine.'  " 


CHAPTER  TWENTIETH. 

THE   HARD-CIDER  CAMPAIGN,    ETC. 
A.  D.  1840,  1841. 

MR.  VAN  BUREN'S  administration,  though  it  had  been  con 
ducted  with  great  dignity  and  prudence,  achieving  at  home  its 
principal  measure,  the  emancipation  of  the  Government  from 
dependency  upon  banks,*  and  maintaining  harmony  abroad 
against  serious  difficulties  and  complications,!  came  to  an  end 
in  a  frenzy  of  disfavor.  Coincident  with  a  period  of  wide 
spread  commercial  distress,  for  which  it  was  made  respon 
sible,  although  the  same  depression  of  trade  and  industry  pre 
vailed  in  England  and  on  the  continent,  it  was  not  credited 
with  the  revival  when  it  began.  The  opposition  was  saga 
cious  enough  to  take  advantage  of  the  prevalent  discontents, 
and  to  promise  a  change.  But,  to  make  sure  of  success,  it  was 
necessary  to  combine  the  many  dissatisfied  factions  by  adopt 
ing  a  policy  of  non-committalism,  both  as  to  its  candidates 
and  its  cause.  Mr.  Clay,  their  traditional  and  most  brilliant 
leader,  was  intrigued  out  of  the  Presidential  nomination, J  and 
a  new  man,  a  military  chief,  General  Harrison,  put  in  his  place. 
To  this  rather  unmeaning  figure-head  a  Virginia  abstraction 
ist,  Mr.  Tyler,  who  was  but  nominally  a  Whig,  was  joined  as  a 
candidate  for  the  Vice-Presidency.  No  declaration  of  prin- 

*  The  Independent  Treasury  Bill  was  passed  July  4,  1840. 
f  The  disturbances  on  the  Canada  frontier. 

J  The  nominating  convention  was  held  at  Harrisburg,  December  4,  1839,  an(l 
voted  by  States,  according  to  their  electoral  power,  and  not  by  popular  delegation. 


380  THE  HARD-CIDER  CAMPAIGN,  ETC. 

ciples  or  of  purposes  was  made,  and  a  campaign  was  begun 
which,  for  noise,  display,  and  debauchery,  was  never  before 
paralleled  in  the  history  of  the  nation.  As  Harrison  had  once 
lived  in  a  log  cabin,  and  was  reputed  to  be  a  drinker  of  hard 
cider,  the  cabin  and  the  cider-barrel  were  made  the  unseemly 
symbols  of  political  faith.  "  If  you  could  imagine,"  says  a 
contemporary  writer,*  "  a  whole  nation  declaring  a  holiday, 
or  season  of  rollicking,  for  six  or  eight  months,  giving  itself  up 
to  the  wildest  freaks  of  fun  and  frolic,  caring  nothing  for  busi 
ness,  singing,  dancing,  carousing,  night  and  day,  you  might 
have  some  notion  of  the  extraordinary  scenes  of  1840."  Mr. 
Bryant  was  at  first  disposed  to  treat  this  immoral  tomfoolery, 
which  the  most  respectable  classes  promoted  by  a  personal 
participation  in  it,  with  serious  and  indignant  argument.  But 
he  soon  saw  that  he  might  as  well  attempt  to  reason  against 
the  northwest  wind  or  the  tides  of  the  sea.  The  only  answer 
would  have  been  a  hurrah  and  a  horse-laugh,  and  so  he  took 
the  times  in  their  own  spirit,  and  flung  at  them  the  keenest 
shafts  of  banter  and  ridicule.  On  no  other  occasion  were  his 
humorous  powers  so  frequently  called  into  play ;  and  his  hits 
at  the  muzzled  candidate,  the  mouthing  orators,  the  immense 
parades,  and  the  junketings,  though  ineffective,  were  among 
the  best  sallies  of  his  pen. 

"  The  enemies  of  the  Democratic  party,"  he  said,  describing  the 
turn  that  the  controversy  had  assumed,  "  threaten  to  put  it  down  by 
singing.  They  have  pointed  at  it  the  whole  artillery  of  the  gamut. 
We  are  all  to  undergo  solmization  ;  we  are  to  be  destroyed  by  *  the 
sweet  and  contagious  breath/  as  Sir  Andrew  Ague-cheek  has  it,  of 
our  adversaries.  .  .  .  The  readers  of  the  '  American '  and  the  read 
ers  of  the  *  Star,'  the  drawing-room  and  the  tap-room,  are  united  on 
this  point.  While  the  one  set  trill  their  Tippecanoe  ballads  to  the  air 
of  di  tanti  palpiti,  the  other  thunders  them  out  to  the  tune  of  '  Come, 
let  us  all  be  Jolly.'  A  regular  organization  has  been  set  on  foot  for 
this  purpose.  Tippecanoe  clubs  are  forming,  not  only  in  the  various 

*  N.  Sargent,  "  Public  Men  and  Events,"  vol.  ii,  p.  107. 


SLICING  AND   JUNKETING.  381 

wards  of  the  city,  but  throughout  the  country,  to  drink  hard  cider  and 
sing  songs  in  praise  of  Harrison.  Stores  of  ballads  have  been  pro 
vided  to  serve  as  heavy  ordnance  for  the  political  campaign ;  glees 
and  catches  are  ready  to  be  thrown  into  our  camp  like  hand-grenades 
and  Congreve  rockets  ;  the  Whig  poets  are  at  work  like  armorers  and 
gunsmiths  fabricating  election  rhymes,  and  we  scarcely  open  a  Whig 
newspaper  without  finding  one  or  two  Harrison  songs.  The  plan  is 
to  exterminate  us  chromatically,  to  cut  us  to  pieces  with  A  sharp,  to 
lay  us  prostrate  with  G  flat,  to  hunt  us  down  with  fugues,  overrun  us 
with  choruses,  and  bring  in  Harrison  by  a  grand  diapason." 

In  this  strain  lie  kept  it  up  for  most  of  the  campaign.  He 
was  very  glad  to  get  out  of  it,  however,  when  he  could,  and,  as 
his  assistants  had  increased  in  number  and  efficiency,*  he  was 
able  this  year  to  begin  his  country  trips  as  early  as  April.  He 
visited,  in  the  course  of  the  summer,  his  old  home  at  Cum- 
mington,  whence  the  family  was  now  departed  ;  the  eastern 
parts  of  the  State  of  Pennsylvania,  which  are  remarkably 
lovely ;  and  the  Catskill  Mountains,  with  every  cleft  and  crev 
ice  of  which  he  became  as  familiar  as  he  was  with  the  leafy 
retreats  in  the  nearer  neighborhood  of  New  York.  Allusions 
to  some  of  these  trips  are  contained  in  the  following  letters 
to  his  friends  Field  and  Dana  : 

"XEW  YORK,  MAY  6,  1840:!  I  regret  exceedingly  to  hear  that 
you  have  suffered  lately  from  ill  health.  We  must  have  you  out  again 
to  America  for  the  benefit  of  the  air.  I  agree  with  Mr.  Cooper  in  his 
last  novel,  '  The  Pathfinder ' — which,  by  the  way,  I  like  very  much, 

*  His  friend  J.  K.  Paulding,  who  expected  to  be  released  from  office  as  Secretary 
of  the  Navy  by  the  defeat  of  Van  Buren,  wrote  to  him  as  follows  :  "  You  have  fought 
ably,  nobly,  and  untiringly  for  the  good  cause,  which  is  not  lost,  but  only  mislaid  for 
a  while,  I  hope  and  trust.  The  manner  in  which  the  '  Evening  Post'  is  conducted 
its  staid  and  sober  dignity,  and  its  freedom  from  the  base  slang,  and  still  baser  false 
hood,  with  which  so  many  newspapers  are  debauched  and  disgraced,  makes  me  proud 
to  remember  that  I  have  a  humble  claim  to  be  associated  with  its  honors."  \Vhen  he 
returned  to  New  York,  Mr.  Paulding  contributed  a  good  deal  of  editorial  matter  to 
the  journal. 

f  To  Ferdinand  E.  Field,  who  had  now  returned  to  England. 


382  THE  HARD-CIDER   CAMPAIGN,  ETC. 

particularly  the  concluding  part — that  the  climate  of  America,  although 
it  is  the  fashion  to  find  fault  with  it,  is  as  good  as  any  climate,  and 
better  than  many.  Another  walk  on  the  Palisades  would  put  you  to 
rights  again,  for  a  week  at  least.  Or  you  might  go  with  me,  where  I 
went  three  weeks  since,  to  Bethlehem,  a  beautiful  little  town  inhabited 
by  Moravians,  twelve  miles  west  of  Easton,  in  Pennsylvania.  Mr. 
Parker  accompanied  me.*  You  would  have  been  delighted  with  the 
place,  its  appearance  of  thrift,  its  neat  habitations,  its  orderly  popula 
tion,  even  to  the  boys  in  the  streets,  its  charming  situation  on  a  hill 
sloping  down  to  the  Lehigh,  its  broad,  shallow,  rapid  river,  with  firm, 
dry  shores,  bordered  with  forest-trees,  and  shagged  here  and  there 
with  thickets  of  the  kalmia  and  rhododendron.  Along  the  banks  are 
beautiful  shaded  walks,  leading  to  a  great  distance,  and  near  the  town 
is  a  little  island  covered  with  ancient  trees  of  immense  size,  and  car 
peted  with  green  turf,  whither  the  people  of  the  place  repair  to  cele 
brate,  after  the  German  manner,  their  birthday  festivals.  On  our 
return  we  walked  to  Easton  along  the  Lehigh,  among  rich  farms  and 
beautiful  hills  and  groves.  Easton  we  only  saw  in  the  evening,  but  it 
appeared  to  be  situated  in  a  very  picturesque  country.  From  the 
bridge  over  the  Delaware  we  had  one  of  the  most  glorious  moonlight 
views  I  ever  beheld.  But  I  suppose  Mr.  Parker  has  written  you  all 
about  our  excursion. 

"  We  have  left  the  house  in  Carmine  Street,  after  inhabiting  it  for 
two  years  and  a  half,  and  have  taken  a  house  in  Ninth  Street,  near 
the  Sixth  Avenue,  not  far  from  Brevoort's  house,  which  you  remember, 
doubtless,  a  kind  of  palace  in  a  garden.  Our  little  dwelling  is  a  com 
fortable  two-story  house,  quite  new  and  very  convenient.  ...  In  most 
other  respects  the  world  goes  on  much  as  it  did  when  you  were  here. 
The  greatest  change  that  I  perceive  in  New  York  is  the  introduction 
of  cabs  and  mustachios,  and  in  some  instances  beards  as  long  as  those 
worn  by  the  Bunkers.  As  I  advance  in  life  the  world  widens  in  some 
respects  and  contracts  in  others ;  I  have  more  acquaintances  and  fewer 
intimates.  But  I  begin  to  moralize,  and,  for  fear  of  being  tiresome, 
as  well  as  because  I  am  at  the  end  of  my  sheet,  I  will  stop  short." 

"  NEW  YORK,  JUNE  9,  1840  :  f  The  newspapers  say  that  you  are  at 
New  Haven  delivering  your  lectures.  I  think  of  coming  up,  and 

*  Mr.  Reginald  Parker,  of  England.  \  To  R.  Ii.  Dana. 


RAMBLES.  383 

taking  this  occasion  to  look  at  the  place  in  summer,  which  I  have- 
never  yet  done.  If  the  weather  is  fair,  I  shall  set  out  in  the  Thursday 
morning's  boat ;  if  not,  perhaps  I  shall  come  on  Friday.  I  shall  stay- 
but  a  night  or  two.  .  .  .  The  story  you  saw  or  heard  of  in  one  of  the 
weekly  prints  is  an  old  affair  of  mine,  written,  I  believe,  nine  years 
ago,  and  published  by  the  Harpers,  in  a  volume  with  some  others.  I 
have  done  with  writing  tales,  for  the  present  at  least.  .  .  .  My  wife 
and  I  often  talk  of  you,  and  recollect  your  visit  to  New  York  as  an 
agreeable  interruption  to  the  seclusion  of  our  lives.  I  met  Halleck 
the  other  day.  He  seems  to  have  liked  you  very  much,  and  spoke  of 
the  pleasure  he  received  from  your  conversation,  although  at  that  time 
his  hearing  was  much  more  imperfect  than  usual.  When  I  saw  him 
the  other  day  his  deafness  was  hardly  perceptible.  ...  If  you  are 
with  Mr.  Hillhouse,  or  should  see  him  before  I  come  up,  please  to 
remember  me  to  him,  and  to  Mrs.  Hillhouse." 

"  NEW  YORK,  SEPTEMBER  i2th:*  I  have  made  two  journeys  into 
the  country.  Once  I  went  to  New  Milford,  in  Connecticut,  by  steam 
boat  and  railroad,  and  then  walked  up  along  the  Housatonic  through 
Kent,  Cornwall,  Canaan,  and  Sheffield,  to  Great  Barrington,  fifty 
miles.  Here  I  saw  my  daughters,  and  then  walked  to  Pittsfield,  from 
which  I  wandered  over  to  Hampshire  County,  to  Worthington,  where 
I  studied  law,  and  to  Cummington,  where  all  that  is  left  of  my  father 
rests  in  a  burying-ground,  on  the  summit  of  one  of  the  broad  highlands 
of  that  region.  Do  you  know  how  beautiful  the  Canaan  Falls  are  ? 
I  never  saw  anything  like  them  in  New  England.  And  yet  I  lived 
within  eighteen  miles  of  them  for  ten  years,  without  making  them  a 
visit.  I  always  thought  that  they  were  mere  rapids.  Yet  they  are 
extraordinarily  beautiful,  the  wild  Housatonic  pouring  over  the  pre 
cipice  in  two  broad,  irregular  sheets  of  snowy  whiteness,  with  a  little 
island  of  trees  and  shrubs  hanging  from  the  brow  of  the  rock  between 
them.  My  next  visit  was  with  my  wife  to  Bethlehem,  a  Moravian 
settlement  in  Pennsylvania,  nearly  ninety  years  old — a  peaceful,  indus 
trious,  orderly,  comfortable  little  community.  It  is  situated  on  the 
Lehigh,  a  rapid  and  most  beautiful  river,  with  an  island  in  the  midst, 
shaded  with  old  oaks  and  elms  and  drooping  birches,  whose  twigs 

*  To  the  same. 


384  THE  HARD-CIDER  CAMPAIGN,   ETC. 

hang  down  to  the  water.  This  is  the  pleasure-ground,  the  place  for 
their  little  assemblies,  their  birthday  commemorations,  coffee-drink- 
ings,  and  musical  parties — for  music  is  a  passion  with  these  people. 
They  announce  a  death  with  plaintive  music  from  their  church-tower; 
they  accompany  a  corpse  to  the  grave  with  music,  and  they  hate  the 
sound  of  a  bell  so  much  that  they  never  allow  their  church-bell  to  strike 
more  than  a  dozen  times  to  call  their  population  to  worship.  One  of 
the  pastors  of  the  congregation  was  a  fellow-passenger  with  my  wife 
when  she  came  out  from  Havre. — I  am  glad  you  think  of  republishing 
your  writings.  It  is  time.  I  see  no  reason  why  you  should  not  put 
in  the  reviews.  Some  of  them  are  among  your  most  characteristic 
compositions ;  nor  do  I  perceive  any  reason  for  leaving  out  the  short 
ones.  Your  success  at  New  Haven,  I  have  no  doubt,  will  bring  you 
invitations  to  lecture  at  other  places,  though  probably  at  your  own 
risk,  which  seems  to  be  the  turn  the  fashion  of  lecturing  is  now 
taking." 

The  Catskill  trip  was  taken  in  July,  in  company  with 
Thomas  Cole,  the  artist,  who  had  removed  from  the  city  and 
fixed  his  abode  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  near  the  shadows 
of  the  great  hills.  He  was  a  modest,  thoughtful,  sweet-tem 
pered  man,  whose  love  of  nature  was  as  deep  as  that  of  Mr. 
Bryant,  and  they  took  great  pleasure  in  sauntering  together 
among  the  mountains,  scaling  their  heights,  or  threading  their 
thickets,  from  dawn  to  dark.  To  some  of  the  less  frequented 
coves — deep  chasms  between  perpendicular  precipices,  shaggy 
with  rocks  and  trees,  and  echoing  with  the  roar  of  hidden  cas 
cades — they  ventured  to  give  appropriate  names,  which,  it  is 
understood,  they  still  retain.  Cole  derived  from  these  wan 
derings  some  of  the  most  impressive  effects  of  his  pictures, 
and  they  enabled  Mr.  Bryant  to  commend  the  attractive  re 
gion  to  public  admiration  in  the  columns  of  his  journal.  In 
one  of  his  poems — the  "  Catterskill  Falls  " — he  has  endeavored 
to  incorporate  the  popular  belief  that  they  who  perish  by 
cold  enjoy  in  their  last  moments  singularly  splendid  and  fan 
tastic  visions  of  life. 

All  through  the  summer  the  noise  and  nonsense  of  the 


JOHN  TYLER.  385 

political  farce  continued,  until  the  defeat  of  Van  Buren  at  the 
polls  in  November.  Harrison,  the  successful  candidate,  was 
inaugurated  the  next  March  (1841)  amid  salvos  of  rejoic 
ing,  but  the  poor  man  had  barely  a  month  to  enjoy  his  tri 
umph.  He  died  on  the  4th  of  April.  It  was  the  first  time- 
that  a  President  had  died  in  office,  and  there  was  something 
pathetic  as  well  as  ghastly  in  such  a  termination  of  such  a 
campaign.  Mr.  Bryant  remarked  upon  it  as  his  view  of  the 
circumstances  suggested;  he  was  respectful,  but  not  pane 
gyrical,  in  what  he  said  of  the  dead  chief  magistrate  ;  but 
his  coldness  of  tone  gave  great  offence  to  the  adherents  of 
the  new  reign.  What  chiefly  provoked  their  resentments  was 
his  refusal  to  conform  to  a  prevalent  practice,  by  reversing 
the  column-rules  of  his  journal,  to  put  it  in  the  black  of 
mourning.  He  thought  it  a  piece  of  "  typographical  fop 
pery,"  beneath  the  dignity  of  an  enlightened  press,  and  re 
frained.  Such  a  storm  of  obloquy  thereupon  broke  forth  from 
other  journals  that,  if  he  had  been  the  "  vampire  "  or  the 
"  ghoul "  which  they  called  him,  it  could  scarcely  have  been 
more  violent. 

Tyler,  who,  as  Vice-President,  succeeded  Harrison,  and 
whose  political  tendencies  were  not  those  of  the  party  by 
which  he  had  been  elected,  was  soon  involved  in  acrimoni 
ous  squabbles  with  its  leaders.  To  the  Democrats  these  fur 
nished  matters  of  amusement,  and  to  Mr.  Bryant  a  great 
relief,  as  he  was  now  no  longer  called  upon  to  defend  an 
administration  with  which  he  was  not  in  entire  accord.  He 
could  once  more  fling  his  arrows  of  assault  where  they  could 
be  most  effective.  He  had  no  great  confidence  in  Tyler,  and 
still  less  in  the  opposition  to  him,  and  he  saw  that  the  rupture 
was  a  sure  presage  of  dissolution  to  the  Whig  party. 

"Mr.  Tyler's  character  and  temperament,"  he  said,  "unfit  him  to 
become  the  favorite  of  any  one  party  or  of  the  people  at  large.  He 
is  well-meaning;  he  would  be  glad  to  administer  the  Government 
beneficially  for  the  people ;  but  his  want  of  clear  notions  on  many 


VOL.  i. — 2! 


386  THE  HARD-CIDER   CAMPAIGN,  ETC. 

subjects,  and  of  definite  information  upon  others,  coupled  with  a  cer 
tain  credulous  readiness  to  adopt  opinions  presented  to  him  in  a 
plausible  manner,  makes  him  a  very  uncertain,  irresolute,  and  unsafe 
politician.  He  cannot  be  made  the  passive  tool  of  any  party :  for 
that  he  has  too  much  candor  and  too  much  uprightness  of  intention ; 
neither  is  he  a  man  to  be  guided  by  the  independent  conclusions  of  his 
own  mind ;  for  that  he  has  not  either  sufficient  clear-sightedness  or 
sufficient  decision.  In  matters  where  he  has  already  expressed  a  posi 
tive  opinion  he  is  firm — nay,  obstinate — for  he  prides  himself  on  his 
consistency;  in  other  matters  he  is  haunted  by  a  perpetual  distrust  of 
his  own  capacity  to  arrive  at  a  just  judgment — a  judgment  which  the 
people  will  ratify.  He,  therefore,  asks  counsel  on  all  sides,  becomes 
confused  by  the  comparison  of  conflicting  arguments,  and  pronounces 
at  last  an  accidental  verdict.  So  it  is  that  in  his  public  acts  he  is 
sometimes  with  one  party  and  sometimes  with  another ;  not  exactly 
because  he  is  a  political  eclectic,  who  takes  something  from  each,  ac 
cording  to  a  fixed  principle  of  selection,  but  because  of  a  certain  in 
firmity  of  judgment.  ...  It  was  both  the  duty  and  the  policy  of  the 
majority  in  Congress  to  make  the  best  of  his  peculiar  character,  to 
give  the  best  play  to  his  virtues,  to  veil  as  much  as  possible  his  defi 
ciencies,  to  yield  him  every  proper  facility  in  the  management  of  public 
affairs,  to  co-operate  with  him  in  making  the  Whig  rule  as  acceptable 
to  the  people  as  possible,  and,  at  the  close  of  his  four  years,  allow 
him  to  pass  into  an  honorable  retirement." 

But  they  chose  to  criticise,  to  thwart,  to  bully,  and  de 
nounce  him ;  in  a  word,  to  engage  in  president  baiting,  as  Mr. 
Bryant  called  it,  greatly  to  Tyler's  discomfort,  but  also  at 
their  own  cost.  Every  blow  they  struck  at  him  seemed  to 
dislocate  their  own  shoulders ;  or,  as  in  the  case  of  Hudibras, 

u  The  gun  they  aimed  at  duck  or  plover 
Was  sure  to  kick  the  owner  over." 

In  May  of  this  year  (1841)  Mr.  Bryant  made  a  briei  visit 
to  Illinois  to  see  his  mother  and  brothers,  going  by  way  of 
Chicago,  no  longer  a  little  village  in  a  wet  marsh,  but  a  noisy 
and  bustling  town,  giving  promise  already  of  its  marvellous 


THE  BLACK   TARIFF.  387 

future.  On  the  prairies  the  wolves  were  still  howling  in  soli 
tary  places;  yet  trn  years  had  made  a  vast  difference  in  the  ap 
pearances  of  a  frontier  settlement.*  He  found  his  brothers- 
four  of  them  now — no  longer  living  in  log  huts  in  the  midst  of 
unbroken  plains,  but  in  handsome  brick  houses,  with  orchards 
and  grain-fields  about  them,  and  churches,  schools,  and  court 
houses  filling  up  the  neighborhood.  His  venerable  mother 
was  still  active  and  vigorous,  trying  for  a  second  time  the  life 
of  the  pioneer,  but  now  rejoicing  in  a  family  of  stalwart  sons, 
one  of  whom  had  achieved  a  national  distinction,  while  the 
others  were  substantial  and  prosperous  citizens,  at  times  the 
law-makers,  of  a  rapidly  growing  State. 

lie  did  not  think  it  prudent,  however,  to  take  his  usual 
rambles  this  summer.  A  new  party  was  in  power  which  he 
thought  needed  watching.  The  controversy  in  regard  to  the 
national  bank  was  getting  exhausted  ;  Jackson,  like  another  St. 
George,  had  given  that  Dragon  of  Wantley  a  fatal  wound ; 
and  its  enemies  might  exclaim  : 

"  Thy  pomp  is  in  the  dust ;  thy  power  is  laid 
Low  in  the  pit  thine  avarice  hath  made." 

But  extraordinary  schemes  for  new  protective  legislation  were 
broached,  and  Mr.  Bryant  wished  to  be  on  hand.  The  Com 
promise  Tariff  of  1832,  a  strictly  revenue  tariff,  was  not  satis 
factory  to  the  manufacturers,  and  a  more  efficient  measure 
was  proposed  in  its  place.  This  was  so  exorbitant  in  its  pro 
visions  that  it  got  the  name  of  the  Black  Tariff.  It  was  the 
original  pretext  of  the  protectionists  that  they  wanted  the  aid 
of  the  government  only  while  their  enterprises  were  \oung  and 
precarious,  and  that,  once  established,  they  would  dispense 
with  its  further  fostering  care.  But  experience  had  shown 
that  the  needs  of  this  class  grew  by  what  they  fed  on.  The 
effect  of  the  artificial  stimulus  given  to  particular  branchr 
trade  had  been  to  augment  the  domestic  competition  in  them, 

*  Sec  "  Sketches  of  Travel,"  vol.  v.  of  collected  works. 


388  THE  HARD-CIDER  CAMPAIGN,  ETC. 

or  to  nourish  them,  not  into  a  stable,  vigorous  life,  but  into 
a  spasmodic  state  of  alternate  strength  and  weakness.  After 
thirty  years  of  governmental  coddling,  here  they  were  again 
at  the  doors  of  Congress,  demanding  a  prodigious  increase 
of  privileges  and  favors.  Mr.  Bryant  fought  the  project  tooth 
and  nail ;  and  he  was  encouraged  in  his  opposition  to  it  by 
the  brilliant  successes  already  achieved  by  the  great  anti-corn- 
law  movement  in  England  over  hostile  opinions.  He  thought 
it  a  shame  that  any  monarchy  should  be  allowed  to  outstrip 
the  republic  in  liberality  of  action. 

"  All  the  tendencies  of  the  times,  throughout  the  civilized  world," 
he  said, "  are  directed  toward  a  condition  of  larger  freedom — not  only 
to  freedom  of  thought  and  speech,  but  to  freedom  of  intercourse. 
Liberty  of  trade  is  getting  to  be  a  popular  rallying  cry  wherever 
there  is  any  approach  to  a  free  expression  of  popular  opinion.  The 
emancipation  of  commerce  from  the  shackles  of  legislation  is  but  a 
continued  manifestation  of  the  same  spirit  which  broke  the  yoke  of 
the  feudal  system,  and  which  is  leading  the  masses  of  every  civilized 
nation  to  fret  under  the  restraints  of  partial  and  aristocratic  govern 
ments.  Free-trade  is  thus  a  part  of  the  grand  movement  of  mankind 
toward  a  nobler  condition  of  social  existence.  Humanity  is  weary  of 
the  narrow  notions  and  confined  habits  which  have  produced  so  much 
of  its  misery  in  the  past.  It  looks  to  the  whole  world  as  the  proper 
theatre  for  its  future  exertions.  Commerce  is  one  of  the  modes  by 
which  man  communes  with  man,  and,  like  the  sea  over  which  its 
products  are  freighted,  it  must  be  broad  and  boundless.  Everywhere 
are  the  walls  of  caste  and  sect  crumbling  before  the  generous  enthu 
siasm  of  freedom  and  progress,  and  it  would  be  idle  to  expect  that  the 
feeble  and  disgraceful  prejudices  and  jealousies  which  separate  nations 
can  escape  the  general  overthrow." 

In  these  sanguine  expectations,  however,  Mr.  Bryant  was 
deceived  ;  selfishness  was  stronger  than  logic  or  sentiment, 
and  he  was  again  compelled  to  see  the  old  system  of  injustice 
revived.  Another  form  of  contemporary  error,  which  took 
the  name  of  Native  Americanism,  was  spreading  widely,  and 
he  opposed  it ;  but  he  deemed  it  only  a  transient  outbreak  of 


A   VISIT  TO  VAN  BUREN. 


339 


bigotry,  and  not  half  so  pernicious  as  the  schemes  of  the  pro 
tectionists. 

It  was  not  until  September  that  he  was  able  to  get  his  run 
in  the  fields,  and  he  chose  for  his  excursion  the  charming  re 
gion  in  the  environs  of  Lebanon  Springs.  They  were  near  the 
birthplace  of  his  young  friend  Mr.  Samuel  J.  Tilden,  already 
a  politician  of  marked  sagacity  and  comprehensive  knowledge, 
whom  he  visited,  and  by  whom  he  was  accompanied  on  a  visit 
to  ex-President  Van  Buren,  at  his  country  seat  near  the  vil 
lage  of  Kinderhook.  A  letter  to  his  journal,  of  September 
1 8th  (1841),  gives  some  account  of  their  interview. 

"NEW  LEBANON,  SEPTEMBER  iSth :  The  crowd  of  summer  com 
pany  which  was  collected  at  the  Springs  has  flown,  and  1  have  these 
beautiful  valleys  to  myself,  and  the  woody  hills  with  the  glorious  views 
they  command.  I  ramble  for  hours  on  the  summits,  and  do  not  fall 
in  with  a  living  creature.  The  other  day  I  was  led  by  curiosity  to 
visit  Kinderhook,  which  I  had  never  seen  before.  It  is  one  of  the 
pleasantest  of  villages,  situated  amid  a  circle  of  swelling  uplands 
and  fresh  meadows  that  skirt  the  winding  streams.  On  one  of  these 
upland  swells,  just  high  enough  to  make  the  elevation  perceptible, 
stands  the  village,  its  broad  streets  embroidered  with  elms,  and  its 
clean,  comfortable  dwellings  half  hidden  by  fruit-trees  and  shrub 
beries.  .  .  .  About  two  miles  south  of  the  village  is  the  dwelling  of 
ex-President  Van  Buren,  where  he  employs  himself  in  the  cultivation 
of  his  newly  purchased  acres.  Thus  far  the  farm  does  credit  to  his 
skilful  administration.  The  ex-President  begins  the  day  with  a  ride 
on  horseback  of  ten  or  fifteen  miles ;  after  breakfast  he  is  engaged 
with  his  workmen  till  he  is  tired,  and  he  then  takes  himself  to  his 
library.  In  these  occupations,  and  in  friendly  intercourse  with  his 
old  friends  and  neighbors,  the  farmers  of  Kinderhook,  he  passes  his 
time.  I  suppose  he  must  like  now  and  then, 

' — through  the  loop-holes  of  retreat,' 

to  peep  at  the  great  Babel  of  the  world,  and  to  speculate  on  what 
they  are  doing  at  Washington  ;  but  he  is  so  absorbed  in  his  agri 
cultural  work  that  he  appears  to  have  no  more  time  to  think  of  poli 
tics  than  any  other  well-informed  man  not  a  politician  by  profes- 


390 


THE  HARD-CIDER   CAMPAIGN,   ETC. 


sion.  I  was  glad  to  find  him  so  free  from  the  pedantry  of  party  men, 
and  to  know  that  his  mind  could  so  readily  command  resources 
beyond  the  occupations  in  which  so  large  a  part  of  his  life  has  been 
engaged.  When,  however,  the  conversation  is  directed  to  political 
subjects,  he  expresses  himself  with  frankness  and  decision,  and  with 
that  penetration  into  the  minds  and  motives  of  men  which  is  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  of  his  faculties.  His  style  of  conversation  is 
lively,  idiomatic,  and  simple,  giving  much  matter  in  few  words — very 
different  from  that  of  most  men  trained  in  the  forum  or  in  legislative 
debate,  who  are  apt  to  fall  into  a  diffuse,  speech-making,  wearisome 
manner." 

Mr.  Bryant  was  more  pleased  with  the  ex-President  than 
he  shows  in  his  letter,  which  was  intended  for  the  public.  He 
had  known  him  before  only  amid  the  responsibilities  of  official 
position,  which  rendered  him  cautious  and  reticent ;  but  here, 
in  the  leisure  and  abandonment  of  private  life,  he  was  unre 
strained  and  communicative.  His  stores  of  anecdotes,  relating 
to  the  distinguished  men  he  had  seen  on  both  sides  of  the  At 
lantic — Jefferson,  Madison,  Burr,  the  Livingstons,  and  many 
of  the  prominent  statesmen  of  Europe — were  inexhaustible, 
and  he  told  them  in  a  piquant  way,  very  much  in  contrast 
with  his  cumbrous  written  style.  Mr.  Van  Buren  corre 
sponded  afterward  with  Mr.  Bryant,  but  his  letters  are  lost. 

A  month  later  he  was  the  guest  of  his  friend  Dana,  whose 
summer  retreat  was  at  Rockport,  Cape  Ann,  a  wild  and 
craggy  nook  on  the  extreme  eastern  point  of  Massachusetts. 
"  Woods  and  waters,  waters  and  woods,"  said  Dana,  describ 
ing  it  in  the  letter  of  invitation ;  "  beautiful  woods,  and 
mossy,  filled  with  birds  all  song,  and  again  jagged  and  lofty 
rocks,  and  breakers  on  the  shore,  or  under  the  trees  of  oak, 
pine,  and  maple."  Mr.  Bryant  went  by  the  way  of  Cam 
bridge,  where  he  was  glad  to  renew  his  acquaintance  of  the 
old  Review  days  with  the  Channings,  Allston,  and  others ; 
to  see  again  the  Rev.  William  Ware  in  a  new  home,  and  pos 
sibly  to  encounter  Longfellow  and  Lowell,  if  they  were  then 
returned  from  the  country.  It  was  this  brief  sojourn  on  the 


A   //I'J/.V  OF    THE  . 


391 


shores  of  the  ocean  that  suggested  to  him  the  "  Hymn  of  the 

Sea,"  which,  with  the  following  letter,  he  sent  sonic  months 
later  to  Mr.  Ware,  editor  of  the  "  Christian  Examiner  "  : 

4<NE\v  YORK,  MAY,  1842  :  As  you  are  making  a  Ice  to  furnish  out 
the  first  number  of  your  periodical  in  its  new  form,  I  shall  contribute 
my  assistance,  such  as  it  is,  along  with  the  rest  of  your  neighbors. 
You  may  rely  upon  my  doing  something.  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  the 

*  Christian  Examiner '  is  not  so  successful  as  it  ought  to  be.     The 
cause  to  which  you  ascribe  it  is  doubtless  the  true  one — that  of  its 
having  taken  the  review  form,  which  is  too  solemn  and  didactic  for 
the  public  taste.    It  is  wonderful  what  success  some  of  our  magazines — 
the  lighter  sort — have  had.     The  publishers  of  the  '  Lady's  Book  '  and 

*  Ladies'  Companion  '  talk,  and  I  believe  with  truth,  of  their  ten  thou 
sand  subscribers  and  more.     *  Graham's  Magazine  '  has   also  a  very 
large  circulation.  ...  I  hope  another  cause  of  the  falling  off  in  the 
subscribers  of  the  *  Christian    Examiner '  is  not   any  decline  in   the 
numbers  of  our  denomination.     Yet  it  must  be  admitted,  I  believe, 
that  we  do  not  multiply  as  we  did  a  few  years  since.     Is  the  increase 
of  the  Unitarians  at  the  present  time  in  proportion  to  the  increase  of 
the  population  ?     I  am  not  able  to  judge  with  much  precision.     Be 
twixt  the  neologists  on  the  one  side,  and  the  archaists  on  the  other,  I 
fear  that  sober  and  sensible  notions  of  religion  are  not  making  much 
progress  just  now;  at  least,  not  in  the  shape   in  which  they  are  re 
ceived  by  us."  * 

*  When  the  Hymn  was  published,  it  was  found  to  contain  a  curious  error  of  tran 
scription,  which  Mr.  Bryant  thus  corrected  in  writing  to  Mr.  Ware,  long  afterward: 

"Xi:w  YORK,  SEPTEMBER  27,  1842:  I  made  a  blunder  in  the  '  Hymn  of  the 
Sea '  which  surprised  me  when  I  perceived  it. 

"  '  The  long  wave  rolling  from  the  Arctic  pole 
To  break  upon  Japan — ' 

is  not  what  I  meant ;  it  does  not  give  space  enough  for  my  wave,  nor  does  it  place 
my  new  continent  or  new  islands  in  the  widest  and  loneliest  part  of  the  ocean.  I 
meant  the  Southern  or  Antarctic  pole,  and  by  what  strange  inattention  to  the  mean 
ing  of  the  word  I  came  to  write  Arctic  I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell.  I  corrected  the 
error  and  published  the  poem  in  the  '  Evening  Post,'  as  extracted  from  the  '  Christian 
i:\aininer.'  It  has  been  in  most  of  the  newspapers  since,  but  I  perceive  they  copied 
from  my  copy." 


CHAPTER   TWENTY-FIRST. 

NEW      POEMS. 
A.   D.    1842. 

AMONG  Mr.  Bryant's  more  intimate  personal  friends  in  New 
York  was  the  Rev.  Orville  Dewey,  his  pastor,  second  as  a 
divine  to  Dr.  Channing  only  in  his  denomination,  and  a  preacher 
of  profound  thoughtfulness,  culture,  and  eloquence.  It  was 
to  him  that  the  following  letter  was  addressed,  which,  as  it 
gives  a  lively  account  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  city  at  the 
time,  is  worth  copying.* 

"NEW  YORK,  JANUARY  n,  1842:  I  fully  meant  to  have  seen  you 
off  on  your  sailing  for  Europe,  but  I  arrived  at  the  wharf  just  in  time, 
as  the  saying  is,  to  be  too  late.  The  steamboat  had  left  the  wharf  a 
few  minutes  before,  and  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  go  back  again, 
feeling,  as  you  may  suppose,  very  silly.  No  less,  I  am  glad  to  hear 
such  good  accounts  of  you  and  your  family ;  for  your  acquaintances 
here  gather  up  and  repeat  to  each  other  all  the  particulars  that  are 
told  in  the  letters  that  any  of  you  write.  You  are  now,  I  suppose, 
immersed  in  the  amusements  of  Paris — such  of  them,  at  least,  as  you 
have  a  taste  for ;  wearying  yourself,  and  your  wife  and  daughter,  with 
running  after  sights,  with  a  comfortable  and  cheerful  home  awaiting 
you  when  you  are  fairly  tired  out.  New  York,  in  the  mean  time,  is 
by  no  means  dull,  I  can  assure  you.  You  are  in  Paris  to  be  sure,  but 
you  must  not  suppose  that  everything  worth  taking  an  interest  in  is 
to  be  found  at  Paris.  You  shall  judge. 

"Firstly.    There  is  animal  magnetism,  which,  since  the  publication 


*  Mr.  Dewey  had  sailed  for  Europe  in  the  latter  part  of  1841. 


NEW    YORK  NOVELTIES. 


393 


of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Townsend's  book,  has  made  great  progress  in  America, 
in  New  York  and  elsewhere.  It  is  quite  the  fashion  for  people  to 
paw  each  other  into  a  magnetic  sleep.  Physicians  somnambulize  their 
patients  and  extract  teeth  literally  without  pain. 

"  A  Dr.  Buchanan,  at  Louisville,  mixes  up  phrenology  and  animal 
magnetism,  puts  certain  faculties  to  sleep  and  excites  others,  operates 
upon  alimentiveness  and  makes  people  hungry,  upon  destructiveness 
and  makes  them  choleric,  upon  ideality  and  makes  them  talk  poetic 
ally,  upon  mirthfulness  and  makes  them  pleasant,  upon  love  of  appro 
bation  and  makes  them  put  on  airs ;  or  paralyzes  one  of  those  organs 
after  the  other,  and  makes  the  choleric  man  imperturbably  good-nat 
ured,  the  funny  man  as  stupid  as  an  oyster,  etc. 

"  Secondly.  There  is  Lord  Morpeth,  the  Irish  Secretary  in  the  late 
Whig  ministry.  Dinners  and  parties  to  Lord  Morpeth  have  been  all 
the  rage  till  within  a  few  days,  but  they  have  now  become  impossible 
by  reason  of  his  going  to  Washington.  Proud  and  happy  is  the  man 
who  can  boast  to  have  entertained  a  live  lord.  Lord  Morpeth  is  a 
quiet,  well-bred,  unassuming  man,  with  an  awkward  person,  sensible, 
extremely  cautious  in  his  opinions,  and  not  much  given  to  talk. 

"  Thirdly.  There  are  politics,  which  are  particularly  interesting 
just  now ;  your  good  old  Whig  party  breaking  up  like  the  ice  in 
March;  the  political  world  taking  a  short  turn  and  darting  off  into  the 
empyrean  of  democracy  as  if  it  never  meant  to  come  back ;  but  all 
this  you  will  read  in  the  newspapers.* 

"  Fourthly.  There  is  homoeopathy,  which  is  carrying  all  before  it. 
Conversions  are  making  every  day.  Within  a  twelvemonth  the  num 
ber  of  persons  who  employ  homoeopathic  physicians  has  doubled ;  a 
homoeopathic  society  has  been  established,  and  I  have  delivered  an 
inaugural  lecture  before  it — a  defence  of  the  system,  which  I  am  to 
repeat  next  week.  The  heathen  rage  terribly,  but  their  rage  availeth 
nothing. f 


*  Of  seven  States  that  voted  for  Harrison  the  year  before,  five  had  reverted  to  the 
Democrats. 

\  Mr.  Bryant  was  by  hereditary  right  interested  in  medicine  ;  and,  when  a  friend 
put  in  his  hands  a  work  upon  the  Hahnemannic  theory,  he  was  greatly  impressed  by 
its  simplicity,  and  its  apparent  scientific  basis.  He  applied  the  system  in  a  great 
many  cases  of  the  smaller  ailments  that  fell  under  his  own  observation,  and  became 
in  time  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  efficacy  of  its  remedial  provisions.  He  ever  after- 


394 


NEW  POEMS. 


"  Fifthly.  There  is  literature,  which  is  just  now  bursting  into  an 
abundance  of  blossoms — poetic  blossoms,  you  understand.  Mrs.  Sig- 
ourney  has  published  a  volume  of  poems,  Miss  Gould  another,  Mrs.  S. 
B.  Dana  another,  Flaccus — I  do  not  know  his  real  name — another,  and 
there  are  five  or  six  poets  besides  whose  verses  have  appeared  since 
you  left  America,  but  whose  names  I  do  not  recollect.  I  hope  their 
verses  are  all  good;  I  have  not  had  time  to  read  any  of  them.  Long 
fellow  has  published  '  Ballads  and  other  Poems  ' — some  of  his  best 
things.  Add  to  these  the  verses  in  the  '  Lady's  Book  '  and  the  '  La 
dies'  Companion,'  periodicals  with  a  vast  circulation;  in  the  'Ladies' 
Wreath,'  and  in  Mrs.  Griffith's  '  Family  Companion  ' ;  in  half  a  score 
of  annuals  and  other  miscellanies,  and  you  will  allow  that  our  poetic 
literature  is  marvellously  productive.  The  hedges  are  full  of  clover- 
blossoms,  and  you  cannot  set  your  foot  down  without  crushing  a  but 
tercup. 

"  Sixthly.  We  have  lectures.  Public  lectures  were  never  so  much 
in  vogue  as  this  winter.  The  theatres  are  deserted  for  Mr.  Eames  and 
for  Mr.  Sparks,  and  for  Dr.  Lardner  and  the  steam-engine.  ...  I 
could  tell  you  of  many  other  matters  of  equal  importance  here.  Our 
club  (the  Sketch  Club)  flourishes,  meeting  regularly,  and  entertaining 
itself  more  agreeably  than  ever — how  ?  You  know  that  already.  But 
the  end  of  my  sheet  is  near,  and  I  must  stop.  Now,  what  have  you  in 
Paris  to  set  off  against  all  these  things?  ...  If  that  iron  hand  is  un 
clenched  that  used  to  take  such  cruel  hold  of  your  head,  write  me  a 
line.  Run  off  a  few  words  at  the  end  of  your  pen  as  you  would  do 
from  the  end  of  your  tongue  if  you  should  meet  me  in  the  street." 

If  Mr.  Bryant  had  withheld  his  letter  for  a  month,  he  might 
have  added  to  his  catalogue  of  sensational  things  a  more  pro 
digious  sensation  than  Morpeth  or  animal  magnetism — the 
arrival  of  the  great  Boz.  Dickens  was  then  at  the  height  of 
his  popularity,  both  at  home  and  abroad.  In  this  country  his 
earlier  books  had  been  read  by  everybody  that  reads  at  all. 
"  Pickwick  "  was  regarded  as  such  a  magazine  of  fun  that  you 

ward  resorted  to  it  in  the  indispositions  of  his  family,  and  of  his  working  people, 
when  he  retired  to  the  country.  His  name  and  his  lecture  helped  to  commend  it  to 
a  more  universal  attention  than  it  had  yet  received  either  in  the  faculty  or  with  the 
public  at  large. 


BOZ  IX  AMERICA.  395 

had  only  to  open  the  covers,  in  any  society,  to  produce  an  ex 
plosion  of  laughter.  Its  principal  characters — Pickwick  him 
self,  Snodgrass  and  Tupman,  old  Weller,  Mrs.  Weller  and  Sam, 
old \Vardle  and  the  Fat  Boy,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Stiggins  and  the 
weeping  Trotter — were  as  well  known  to  the  most  of  us  as  any 
oddities  on  Broadway,  or  on  the  boards  of  the  Park  and  the 
Bowery.  The  newspapers  overflowed  with  the  peculiar 
forms  of  wit  known  as  Wellerisms,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  some 
of  them  were  not  better  than  the  originals.  With  this  sort  of 
introduction,  a  spontaneous  movement  of  welcome  received 
Dickens  on  his  arrival  in  Boston.  It  was  reported  that  his  first 
question  on  landing  was,  "  Where  is  Bryant?  "  as  if  he  thought 
the  poet  must  of  necessity  be  an  inhabitant  of  Boston.  Mr. 
Bryant  seems  to  have  been  touched  by  the  popular  excite 
ment,  for  he  called  upon  the  novelist  as  soon  as  he  reached 
New  York;  and,  not  finding  him  in,  called  a  second  time. 
Dickens  acknowledged  these  attentions  in  the  following  char 
acteristic  note : 

"  CARLTON  HOUSE,  February  14,  1842. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  With  one  exception  (and  that's  Irving)  you  are 
the  man  I  most  wanted  to  see  in  America.  You  have  been  here  twice, 
and  I  have  not  seen  you.  The  fault  was  not  mine ;  for  on  the  even 
ing  of  my  arrival  committee-gentlemen  were  coming  in  and  out  until 
long  after  I  had  your  card  put  into  my  hands.  As  I  lost  what  I  most 
eagerly  longed  for,  I  ask  you  for  your  sympathy,  and  not  for  your  for 
giveness.  Now,  I  want  to  know  when  you  will  come  and  breakfast 
with  me :  and  I  don't  call  to  leave  a  card  at  your  door  before  asking 
you,  because  I  love  you  too  well  to  be  ceremonious  with  you.  I  have 
a  thumbed  book  at  home,  so  well  worn  that  it  has  nothing  upon  the 
back  but  one  gilt  '  B,'  and  the  remotest  possible  traces  of  a  'y.'  My 
credentials  are  in  my  earnest  admiration  of  its  beautiful  contents. 
Any  day  but  next  Monday  or  next  Sunday.  Time,  half-past  ten. 
Just  say  in  writing,  '  My  dear  Dickens,  such  a  day.  Yours  ever.' 

;lyou?  Your  faithful  friend, 

"CHARLES  DICKENS." 

They  breakfasted  together  at  a  time  appointed,  Ilalleck 
and   Professor  Charles  Felton,  of   Cambridge,  being  of  the 


396  NEW  POEMS. 

party,  and  a  lively  time  they  had  of  it.  Felton,  writing  to  Mr. 
Bryant  afterward,  says :  "  A  breakfast  with  Bryant,  Halleck, 
and  Dickens,  is  a  thing  to  remember  forever."  The  story 
teller's  exuberant  animal  spirits  and  frank  boyishness  of  man 
ner,  to  say  nothing  of  his  wit  and  nice  observation  of  men  and 
things,  took  direct  hold  of  Mr.  Bryant's  quieter  temperament, 
in  spite  of  an  unmitigated  Cockneyism  of  dress.*  Subse 
quently  he  entertained  Dickens  at  his  own  home,  was  of  the 
number  of  those  who  invited  him  to  a  public  dinner  at  the 
Astor  House,  and  he  even  attended  the  ball  given  to  him  by 
the  fashion  and  wealth  of  the  city  at  the  Park  Theatre.f  More 
than  that,  when  a  French  contemporary  journal  $  made  a  little 
fun  of  these  extraordinary  demonstrations,  assigning  as  the 
motive  of  them  a  desire  to  escape  the  imputation  of  money- 
loving,  and  to  get  a  good  report  from  the  visitor,  he  put  a 
more  rational  construction  on  the  outbreak. 

"We  do  not  think  our  French  critic,"  he  said,  "has  gone  to  the 
bottom  of  the  matter.  The  main  cause  is  the  merit  of  the  individual, 
and  an  honest  desire  on  the  part  of  the  community  to  testify  their 
appreciation  of  it.  Many  who  take  a  more  active  part  are,  no  doubt, 
prompted  by  a  vain  curiosity,  or  by  a  paltry  ambition  to  render  them 
selves  conspicuous.  But  the  great  majority  of  them  are  sincere  ad 
mirers  of  the  man  and  his  writings.  His  more  obvious  excellences 
are  of  the  kind  which  are  easily  understood  by  all  classes — by  the 
stable-boy  as  well  as  the  statesman.  His  intimate  knowledge  of  char 
acter,  his  familiarity  with  the  language  and  experience  of  low  life,  his 
genuine  humor,  his  narrative  power,  and  the  cheerfulness  of  his  phi 
losophy,  are  traits  that  impress  themselves  on  minds  of  every  descrip- 


*  Dickens  wore  flashy  waistcoats  and  a  great  deal  of  jewellery. 

f  Writing  to  Dana,  April  igth,  he  said :  "  You  were  right  in  what  you  said  of 
Dickens.  I  liked  him  hugely,  though  he  was  so  besieged  while  he  was  here  that  I 
saw  little  of  him — little  in  comparison  with  what  I  could  have  wished.  It  was  a 
constant  levee  with  him  ;  he  was  obliged  to  keep  an  amanuensis  to  answer  notes  and 
letters.  I  breakfasted  with  him  one  morning,  and  the  number  of  despatches  that 
came  and  went  made  me  almost  think  that  I  was  breakfasting  with  a  minister  of  state. 
The  "  Courrier  des  Etats-Unis." 


I \TERNATIOXAL    COPYRIGHT. 


397 


tion.  But,  besides  these,  he  has  many  characteristics  to  interest  the 
higher  orders  of  mind.  They  are  such  as  to  recommend  him  pecul 
iarly  to  Americans.  His  sympathies  seek  out  that  class  with  which 
American  institutions  and  laws  sympathize  most  strongly.  He  has 
found  subjects  of  thrilling  interest  in  the  passions,  sufferings,  and 
virtues  of  the  mass.  As  Dr.  Channing  has  said,  'he  shows  that  life 
in  its  rudest  form  may  wear  a  tragic  grandeur,  that,  amid  follies  or 
excesses  provoking  laughter  or  scorn,  the  moral  feelings  do  not  wholly 
die,  and  that  the  haunts  of  the  blackest  crime  are  sometimes  lighted 
up  by  the  presence  and  influence  of  the  noblest  souls.'  Here  we  have 
the  secret  of  the  attentions  that  have  been  showered  upon  Mr.  Dick 
ens.  That  they  may  have  been  carried  too  far  is  possible ;  yet  we  are 
disposed  to  regard  them,  even  in  their  excess,  with  favor.  We  have 
so  long  been  accustomed  to  seeing  the  homage  of  the  multitude  paid 
to  men  of  mere  titles,  or  military  chieftains,  that  we  have  grown  tired 
of  it.  We  are  glad  to  see  the  mind  asserting  its  supremacy,  to  find 
its  rights  more  generally  recognized.  We  rejoice  that  a  young  man, 
without  birth,  wealth,  title,  or  a  sword,  whose  only  claims  to  distinc 
tion  are  in  his  intellect  and  heart,  is  received  with  a  feeling  that  was 
formerly  rendered  only  to  kings  and  conquerors.  The  author,  by  his 
genius,  has  contributed  happy  moments  to  the  lives  of  thousands,  and 
it  is  right  that  the  thousands  should  recompense  him  for  the  gift."* 

After  Mr.  Dickens  had  left  the  city,  and  reached  Niagara 
Falls,  he  entrusted  to  Mr.  Bryant  an  address  to  the  people  of 
the  United  States,  urging  the  passage  of  an  international  copy 
right  law.  With  it  he  enclosed  letters  from  Carlyle,  Buhvcr, 
Tennyson,  Campbell,  Talfourd,  Hallem,  Hunt,  Milman,  Sidney 
Smith,  Rogers,  Foster,  and  Barry  Cornwall,  all  of  whom  sec 
onded  his  appeal.  Mr.  Bryant,  in  publishing  the  address, 
commended  the  object  of  it ;  but  he  founded  his  argument  not 
on  the  ground  simply  of  justice  due  to  foreign  authors,  but 
on  the  fact  that  American  literature  itself  had  reached  a  state 
of  development  in  which  our  native  authors  required  protec 
tion  from  foreign  pillage.  He  referred  to  recent  works  of 
Irving,  Cooper,  Dana,  Longfellow,  Hawthorne,  Sparks,  Ban- 

*  "  Evening  Post,"  February  18,  1842. 


398  NEW  POEMS. 

croft,  and  Ware,  as  having  lifted  us  to  a  higher  place  in  the 
republic  of  letters,  of  which  we  were  no  longer  strangers  at 
the  gate,  but  active  denizens,  and  bound  to  its  other  members 
by  all  the  laws  of  justice,  honor,  and  hospitality. 

When  Dickens  returned  to  England  and  wrote  his  carica 
tures  of  American  life,  Mr.  Bryant  thought  it  a  shabby  return 
for  the  public  hospitality  he  had  consented  to  accept ;  but  he 
did  not  share  in  the  revulsion  of  feeling  with  which  they  were 
greeted  by  the  press.  Of  the  famous  "American  Notes,"  he 
simply  remarked : 

"  Mr.  Dickens  was  but  four  months  in  the  United  States,  and,  al 
lowing  him  to  make  the  best  use  of  his  opportunity,  must  have  gone 
back  without  knowing  much  of  the  country  or  its  people.  He  repre 
hends  many  things,  it  is  true,  very  properly,  and  satirizes  others 
amusingly.  Of  the  latter,  what  he  says  about  the  national  abomina 
tion  of  tobacco  chewing  and  spitting  is  an  example  ;  of  the  former,  his 
remarks  on  the  ferocity  and  malignity  of  party  spirit,  and  the  licen 
tiousness  of  the  press.  In  regard  to  the  newspaper  press,  however, 
though  its  character  is  bad  enough,  he  has  overcharged  his  censures. 
The  journals  of  several  of  our  principal  cities — Boston,  Philadelphia, 
and  Charleston — are  quite  as  decorous,  for  aught  we  see,  as  the  best  of 
the  English  journals.  In  this  city  the  newspaper  press  is  worse  than 
anywhere  else  in  the  United  States ;  but  the  example  of  two  or  three 
presses  in  New  York  does  not  prove  the  general  profligacy  with  which 
all  the  newspapers  in  the  Union  are  conducted.  It  is  true  that  the 
best  of  us,  probably,  have  something  to  amend,  and  it  is  true,  also, 
that  the  standard,  both  of  morality  and  decorum,  is  not  sufficiently 
high  among  the  greater  number  of  those  who  manage  our  newspapers. 
Without  attempting  to  justify  them  by  the  example  of  the  London 
journals,  which,  perhaps,  would  not  be  difficult,  if  comparison  were  a 
fair  mode  of  justification,  we  have  no  objection  to  see  the  scourge  of 
reproof  well  laid  on,  and  let  those  wince  who  feel  the  smart.* 

Mr.  Bryant  was  engaged  the  while  in  getting  out  a  new 
volume  of  his  poems.  The  Harpers  had  printed  a  fifth  edition 

*  "  Evening  Post,"  November  9,  1842. 


«•  THE  FOUNTAIN  AXD   OTHER   POEMS."  399 

of  the  earlier  volume,  and  to  this  he  added  another  small  vol 
ume  containing  the  crop  of  later  growth.*  Surprise  has  often 
been  expressed  that  he  should  have  written  so  little  poetrv. 
but  the  real  wonder  is  that  he  should  have  written  any  at  all. 
Considering-  the  nature  of  his  daily  occupation,  its  absorbing- 
toils,  its  incessant  and  harassing  distractions,  the  wide  diver 
sity  of  thought  it  exacted,  and  the  inharmonious  passions  it 
often  aroused,  we  are  astonished  that  he  should  have  been  able 
to  gather  so  many  as  twenty  new  poems  in  his  new  collection. 
These  we  doubtless  owe  to  his  persistent  banishment  of  the 
anxieties  of  the  desk  from  his  hours  of  leisure,  and  to  those 
long  pedestrian  tours  which  racked  off  the  lees  of  newspaper 
conflicts,  and  allowed  his  poetic  emotions  to  effervesce.  It  is 
remarkable,  indeed,  how  few  traces  of  the  agitations  and  sharp 
collisions  of  his  life  are  left  on  his  poems. 

Since  his  return  from  Europe,  in  1836,  he  had  \vritten, 
"  The  Living  Lost,"  "  Catterskill  Falls,"  "  The  Strange  Lady," 
"  Earth's  Children  Cleave  to  Earth,"  "  The  Hunter's  Vision," 
"  A  Presentiment,"  "  The  Child's  Funeral,"  "  The  Battle-Field," 
11  The  Future  Life,"  "  The  Death  of  Schiller,"  "  The  Fountain," 
"  The  Winds,"  "  The  Old  Man's  Counsel,"  "  An  Evening  Rev- 
cry,"  "  The  Painted  Cup,"  "  A  Dream,"  "  The  Antiquity  of 

*  Of  this  volume  Mr.  Dana  wrote,  December  2,  1842  :"...!  have  been  greatly 
pleased  with  your  '  Return  of  Youth.'  It  has  not  only  your  usual  sentiment,  truth, 
and  beauty  of  description  and  language,  but  more  of  strictly  poetic  fancy  than  many 
of  your  later  pieces.  The  first  stanza,  as  a  whole,  serves  very  well  for  the  opening,  at 
least  with  the  exception  of  one  line,  which  is  to  me  a  little  too  much  after  the  order 
of  the  manufacture  which  was  carried  on  some  half  century  ago — '  and  prompt  the 
tongue  the  generous  thought  to  speak.'  The  whole  piece  is  most  beautiful,  and  I 
want  you  to  substitute  a  line  for  this  which  shall  be  more  in  unison  with  the  rest. 
Should  it  require  a  change  of  one  or  two  of  its  neighboring  lines,  no  harm  would 
come  of  it.  You  can  bear  the  toil  of  emendation,  and,  depend  upon  it,  the  whole 
thing  is  worthy  of  it.  '  Noon'  is  beautiful,  though  not  equal  to  '  Evening  Rcvciy.' 
Have  you  a  poem  with  some  few  passages  of  more  stir  and  passion  (I  don't  mean,  of 
convulsions)  than  these?  If  your  poem  is  long,  it  will  need  to  have  here  and  there 
a  peak  thrown  up  out  of  the  level.  Don't  think  me  impertinent,  and  don't  let  me 
bother  you.  After  ail,  every  man  must  work  on  according  to  his  natural  workings 
at  the  time,  or  he  will  hurt  what  is  good  by  attempts.  It  will  be  beautifully  serene 
and  meditative,  though  it  should  be  without  what  I  speak  of." 


400 


NEW  POEMS. 


Freedom,"  "  The  Maiden's  Sorrow,"  "  The  Return  of  Youth," 
and  "  A  Hymn  of  the  Sea,"  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  in 
any  of  these  any  loss  of  strength  or  delicacy  in  his  poetic  fibre. 
In  "The  Fountain,"  "The  Old  Man's  Counsel,"  "An  Evening 
Revery,"  and  "  The  Antiquity  of  Freedom,"  the  blank  verse 
of  "  Thanatopsis  "  and  "  The  Forest  Hymn  "  reappears  in  all  its 
solemn  and  stately  beauty  ;  and  in  "  The  Battle-Field,"  "  The 
Future  Life,"  "  The  Maiden's  Sorrow,"  "  The  Child's  Funeral," 
and  "A  Dream,"  his  favorite  quatrains  exhibit  all  the  old  seri 
ousness  and  sweetness  of  thought,  with  perhaps  an  added  music 
and  deeper  human  sympathies ;  while  "  The  Winds  "  and  "  Cat- 
terskill  Falls  "  disclose  before  unnoticed  or  unsuspected  vari 
eties  of  power.  When  the  new  volume  appeared,*  the  critics 
acknowledged  its  unabated  charms.  Professor  C.  C.  Felton, 
of  Cambridge,  in  the  "  North  American,"  said :  f 

"  Mr.  Bryant,  during  a  long  career  of  authorship,  has  written  com 
paratively  little  ;  but  that  little  is  of  untold  price — 6/Uyoi>  re  tfihov  re 
— little,  but  precious  and  dear.  What  exquisite  taste !  what  a  deli 
cate  ear  for  the  music  of  poetical  language  !  what  fine  and  piercing 
sense  of  the  beauties  of  nature,  down  to  the  minutest  and  most  evanes 
cent  things !  He  walks  forth  in  the  fields  and  forests,  and  not  a  green 
or  rosy  tint,  not  a  flower  or  herb  or  tree,  not  a  strange  or  familiar  plant, 
escapes  his  vigilant  glance.  The  naturalist  is  not  keener  in  searching 
out  the  science  of  nature  than  he  in  detecting  all  its  poetical  aspects, 
effects,  analogies,  and  contrasts.  To  him  the  landscape  is  a  speaking 
and  teaching  page.  He  sees  its  pregnant  meaning  and  all  its  hidden 
relations  to  the  life  of  man — " 

Then,  after  praising  his  technical  excellences,  which  are 
put  on  a  level  with  the  lofty  thought  and  sentiment,  Professor 
Felton  added  this : 

"  What  a  beautiful  gift  is  this  !  Here  is  a  man  whose  life  is  cast 
among  the  stern  realities  of  the  world,  who  has  thrown  himself  into 

*  "  The  Fountain  and  Other  Poems."     New  York  :  Wiley  £  Putnam,  1842. 
f  "  North  American  Review,"  October,  1842. 


rOETRY  AND  POLITICS. 


4OI 


the  foremost  line  of  what  he  deems  the  battle  for  human  rights,  who 
wages  a  fierce  war  with  political  principles  opposed  to  his  own,  who 
deals  with  wrath  and  dips  his  pen  daily  in  bitterness  and  hate,  who 
pours  out  from  a  mind,  fertile  in  thought  and  glowing  with  passion, 
torrents  of  invective,  in  language  eloquent  with  the  deepest  convic 
tions  of  the  heart  and  keen  as  the  blade  of  Damascus  J»  yet  able  to 
turn  at  will  from  this  storm  and  strife  and  agony  to  the  smiling  fields 
of  poetry,  where  not  a  sound  of  the  furious  din  with  which  he  was 
but  just  now  surrounded  strikes  upon  the  ear;  yet  delighting  to  still 
the  tumult  of  daily  conflict,  and  for  a  time  to  cherish  those  broad  and 
mighty  sympathies  which  bind  man  to  man  and  nation  to  nation  in 
one  universal  brotherhood  of  hearts.  We  gaze  with  wonder  on  the 
change,  and  can  scarce  believe  the  poet  and  the  politician  to  be  the 
same  man.  But  so  it  is,  and  happy  is  it  that  the  scorching  stream  of 
lava  passion  which  the  central  fires  of  politics  pour  over  the  fields  of 
life  may  be  fringed  by  luxuriant  verdure,  gemmed  with  flowers  of  ex 
quisite  hues  and  richest  fragrance ;  and  every  man  who  loves  the 
muse,  and  longs  to  see  the  grace  and  charities  of  letters  and  refine 
ment  shedding  their  delights  far  and  wide  over  the  rugged  scenes  of 
American  life,  may  thank  the  poet-politician  for  teaching  the  often- 
forgotten  lesson  that  there  is  even  in  the  republic  something  better 
than  the  passions  that  fret  their  little  hour  in  the  columns  of  a  news 
paper,  and  then  pass  from  the  minds  of  men  forever." 

All  this  was  meant  to  be,  and  was,  complimentary,  but  it 
shows  how  little  Mr.  Bryant  was  understood  even  by  gentle 
men  of  position  and  learning-  who  admired  his  abilities.  Set 
ting  aside  the  exaggerations  of  Professor  Felton's  phrases  in 
regard  to  "  torrents  of  invective,"  "  bitterness  and  hate,"  and 
"  scorching  streams  of  lava,"  it  is  evident  that  he  did  not  see 
that  Mr.  Bryant's  political  activity  was  animated  by  the  same 
broad  and  mighty  sympathies  that  inspired  his  poetry.  He 
was,  doubtless,  deeply  in  earnest,  and  sometimes  spoke  of 
those  who  perverted  public  trusts  to  ignoble  ends  with  burn 
ing  indignation  ;  but  the  prevailing  tone  of  his  discussions  was 
calm,  dispassionate,  and  dignified,  and  as  impartial  in  their 
judgments  as  those  of  a  man  who  adopts  a  party  can  be.  The 

TOL.  I. — 27 


402 


NEW  POEMS. 


general  truth  of   those  judgments  was  amply  vindicated  by 
the  progress  of  time. 

No  one  was  more  keenly  aware  than  Mr.  Bryant  himself  of 
the  incongruity  of  his  daily  occupation  with  his  finer  faculty ; 
and  we  have  seen,  by  his  letters,  how  he  endeavored  to  get 
away  front  it ;  but  he  was  by  use  and  wont  accustomed  to  the 
fetters,  and  he  found  in  his  editorial  life  many  compensations. 
He  had  been  taught  from  his  youth  up  that  every  citizen  is 
bound  to  interest  himself  in  public  affairs,  and  the  interest  he 
took,  he  had  reason  to  believe,  was  of  great  and  lasting  benefit 
to  the  community.*  Not  only  had  he  raised  the  character  of 
the  newspaper  press,  but  he  had  by  its  agency  reformed  many 
abuses,  and  prevented  others.  On  one  great  evil — that  of  sla 
very — his  voice  was  a  voice  of  power  all  over  the  land.  Letters 
came  to  him  from  good  men  and  women,  in  every  part  of  the 
country,  testifying  their  approval  of  his  course ;  and  among 
these  he  valued  none  more  highly  than  those  of  Dr.  Channing, 
who  frequently,  by  spoken  messages  or  by  writing,!  en 
couraged  his  efforts.  Mr.  Bryant  had  enjoyed  few  opportuni 
ties  of  personal  intercourse  with  the  great  moralist ;  he  made 
his  acquaintance,  in  1821,  in  Boston,  saw  him  several  times 
afterward,  and  always  called  upon  him  when  he  visited  New 


*  To  a  friend,  who  adverted  to  this  subject  once,  Mr.  Bryant  smilingly  recalled 
that  fine  passage  of  Milton;  "  It  is  manifest  with  what  small  willingness  I  endure," 
"  to  leave  calm  and  pleasing  solitariness,  to  embark  upon  a  troubled  sea  of  noises 
and  harsh  disputes  ;  put  from  beholding  the  bright  countenance  of  Truth,  in  the  quiet 
of  delightful  studies  ;  but,  were  it  the  meanest  underservice,  if  God  by  his  secretary, 
conscience,  enjoin  it,  it  were  sad  for  me  if  I  should  draw  back." 

f  I  remember  reading  these  letters,  but  they  are  not  now  recoverable.  One  of  them 
related  to  Mr.  Bryant's  habit  of  excluding  reports  of  certain  crimes  from  his  journal. 
In  the  beginning  of  his  editorship  he  refused  to  publish  any  of  the  details  of  these 
crimes,  thinking  that  the  tendency  of  it  was  to  corrupt  the  public  mind  ;  but,  at  a 
later  day,  he  took  another  view  of  the  morality  of  the  case,  arguing  that  the  best  way 
of  convincing  society  of  the  need  of  reform  was  to  let  it  know  of  the  hideous  ulcers 
that  were  generated  in  its  bosom.  I  do  not  think  that  he  would  ever  have  justified 
the  realism,  in  which  certain  French  romancers  have  since  indulged,  although  he  had 
strong  faith  in  publicity  as  a  means  of  cleansing  polluted  nooks.  Let  in  the  light,  he 
used  to  say,  if  you  would  drive  away  the  bats,  and  owls,  and  other  obscene  birds. 


PR.    U\  E.   CH ANN  ING. 


403 


York.  For  Channing's  abilities  and  character  he  cherished 
the  highest  admiration;  often  defended  him  in  the  journal, 
and,  when  he  died  (October,  1842),  deplored  his  loss  as  a  great 
public  bereavement.  A  heart-felt  notice  of  his  career  con 
cluded  thus : 

"...  It  is  not,  however,  the  theological  opinions  of  Dr.  Channing 
that  we  have  at  present  to  consider;  our  concern  is  principally  with 
his  character  as  a  political  moralist,  in  which  he  has  left  behind  him  a 
reputation  that  will  not  die  while  our  language  exists.  In  most  of  the 
eloquent  writings  which  he  has  given  to  the  world  within  the  last  fif 
teen  years,  his  aim  has  been  to  recall  the  practice  of  government  and 
legislation  to  the  strictest  conformity  with  the  highest  standard  of 
right ;  to  banish  from  it  whatever  was  inconsistent  with  justice,  benevo 
lence,  and  the  most  reverential  regard  for  the  natural  equality  of  the 
human  race.  It  was  in  1828,  we  think,  that  his  essay  on  the  American 
Union  appeared  in  an  eastern  periodical.  In  that  essay  he  pointed 
out,  with  great  clearness,  the  true  objects  of  government,  and  in  par 
ticular  of  the  American  government,  insisting  strongly  upon  a  rigor 
ous  simplicity  of  legislation,  and  tracing  a  multitude  of  abuses  to  a 
departure  from  that  great  and  essential  principle.  Much  of  the  lan 
guage  of  that  essay  has  since  been  familiar  to  those  who  are  not  aware 
of  the  source  from  which  it  has  been  derived,  and  many  of  its  views 
have  become  incorporated  with  the  public  opinion  of  the  day.  Since 
that  time  he  has  published  tract  after  tract  upon  public  questions 
and  public  measures,  all  of  them  having  in  view  the  same  great  object 
of  bringing  the  national  policy  into  a  more  perfect  agreement  with  the 
principles  of  benevolence  and  justice,  and  all  of  them  instinct  with  a 
fervid  eloquence  which  seemed  to  grow  more  and  more  earnest  and 
intense  with  every  successive  publication.  In  several  of  them  the 
question  of  American  slavery  was  discussed — discussed  with  the  per 
fect  freedom  of  one  who  poured  out  his  thoughts  without  fear  or  re 
serve,  yet  with  a  moderation  and  fairness  which  those  who  differed 
with  him  did  not  always  appreciate.  It  may  be  that,  in  his  desire  to 
reach  a  great  object,  he  did  not  always  sufficiently  estimate  the  prac 
tical  difficulties  which  were  to  be  surmounted,  but  it  were  better  to 
err  on  that  side  than  to  abate  anything  of  an  essential  principle.  He 
never  belonged  to  any  of  the  antislavery  associations,  and  often  re- 


404 


NEW  POEMS. 


buked  the  Abolitionists  for  their  ferocity,  intolerance,  and  party  spirit, 
while  he  vindicated  their  right  to  the  most  perfect  liberty  of  discus 
sion,  and  agreed  with  them  in  maintaining  the  right  of  all  men  to  per 
sonal  freedom. 

"  The  eloquence  of  Dr.  Channing's  writings  is  of  a  peculiar  and 
original  caste.  It  is  fluent,  clear  and  impassioned,  enchaining,  and 
persuading  the  reader  with  all  the  power  of  the  finest-spoken  elo 
quence.  It  is  remarkably  unadorned  with  figures,  illustrations,  and 
comparisons;  it  is  bare  of  those  ornaments  which  make  what  is  some 
times  called  fine  writing,  and  yet  it  is  as  far  as  can  be  imagined  from 
dry,  jejune,  and  apothegmatic.  Truths  are  stated,  and  reasonings  are 
urged  in  the  most  lucid  and  choice  phrases  of  the  language,  and  with 
the  most  harmonious  collocation  of  words ;  to  every  idea  the  fullest 
development  is  given,  and  view  after  view  of  the  same  thought  is  pre 
sented  to  the  mind,  until  the  mind  becomes  familiar  with  all  its  as 
pects,  and  filled  with  the  impression  that  it  is  fitted  to  produce.  So 
admirable  is  his  use  of  language  that  phraseology,  which,  when  ana 
lyzed,  seems  to  have  no  character  but  that  of  simple  propriety,  has  in 
his  hands  a  poetic  effect,  and  an  irresistible  power  of  kindling  emo 
tion  in  the  reader."* 

A  few  days  after  the  death  of  Charming,  when  the  Uni 
tarians  of  New  York  held  a  meeting  in  the  Church  of  the 
Messiah,  to  commemorate  the  life  and  character  of  their  great 
chief,  Mr.  Bryant  contributed  the  hymn  which  was  sung  on 
the  occasion : 

"  While  yet  the  harvest-fields  are  white, 

And  few  the  toiling  reapers  stand, 
Called  from  his  task,  before  the  night 
We  miss  the  mightiest  of  the  band." 

*  "  Evening  Post,"  October  5,  1842. 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-SECOND. 

A    POLITICAL   EMI'.AKRASSMKXT. 
A.  D.    1843,  1844. 

IT  was  an  evidence  of  growing  change  in  public  opinion 
that  the  "  Evening  Post "  was  increasing  in  circulation.  The 
merchants  had  abandoned  it  because  of  its  financial  opin 
ions,*  and  the  "  dough-faces  "  f  denounced  it  for  its  outspo 
ken  antislavery  sentiments ;  yet,  instead  of  sinking  under  the 
adverse  gales,  it  was  spreading  a  broader  canvas  to  the  wind,:f 
and  meeting  the  angry  seas  with  a  more  contemptuous  bold 
ness.  Although  it  refused  to  fall  in  with  what  was  deemed  the 
patriotic  view  of  the  Right  of  Visitation  and  Search  asserted 
by  England  and  the  other  powers  in  the  quintuple  treaty  for 
the  suppression  of  the  slave-trade ;  although  it  condemned  the 
shameless  treatment  of  Adams  by  the  House  of  Representa 
tives  for  his  indomitable  defence  of  the  freedom  of  debate,  and 
of  Geddings  for  his  manly  vindication  of  the  freedom  of  the 
high  seas,  §  it  found  itself  actually  getting  into  wider  favor.  The 
calmer  judgment  of  the  North  had  been  awakened ;  men  began 
to  ask  themselves  if  the  constitutional  convictions  of  Northern 
constituents  were  to  be  held  only  by  the  consent  of  slave  barons 
and  slave  bailiffs.  Northern  sentiment  was,  moreover,  revolted 
by  the  increasing  severity  of  slave-holding  laws,  made  under 

*  At  one  time  it  was  so  low  that  its  publishers  were  obliged  to  borrow  money  of 
private  friends  to  pay  its  current  exptr 

f  A  name  given  to  the  timid  and  pliant  adherents  of  party,  who  allowed  their 
opinions  to  be  kneaded  into  shape  by  the  pro-slavery  leaders. 

}  It  was  greatly  enlarged  in  size. 

§  In  the  Creole  case. 


4o6  A  POLITICAL  EMBARRASSMENT. 

a  pretence  of  resisting  the  aggressions  of  abolitionism.  Manu 
missions  by  will  or  bequest  were  forbidden  in  many  South 
ern  States ;  free  negroes  might  be  sold  into  slavery  for  the 
slightest  offences,  and  the  penalties  against  attempted  revolts 
were  multiplied  and  aggravated.  Is  such  the  system,  it  was 
asked,  that  we  are  to  uphold  or  connive  at  ?  Even  Northern 
governors  were  emboldened  by  the  growth  of  the  free  senti 
ment  to  refuse  the  surrender  of  fugitive  slaves  ;  and  Northern 
Legislatures  demanded  the  repeal  of  the  gag-law  of  Congress 
(the  2oth  Rule),  which  shut  out  antislavery  petitions. 

Mr.  Bryant  rejoiced  in  this  return  of  prosperity,  not  only  - 
as  a  sign  of  reviving  confidence  in  the  principles  of  his 
journal,  but  privately  also,  as  it  enabled  him  to  gratify  a  hope 
which  he  had  long  nourished  of  getting  a  home  in  the  coun 
try.  Writing  to  his  brother  John  (February  5,  1843),  ne  says : 
"  Congratulate  me !  there  is  a  probability  of  my  becoming  a 
landholder  in  New  York !  I  have  made  a  bargain  for  about 
forty  acres  of  solid  earth  at  Hempstead  Harbor,  on  the  north 
side  of  Long  Island.  There,  when  I  get  money  enough,  I 
mean  to  build  a  house."  Meanwhile,  he  thought  it  no  waste 
of  these  expected  means  to  make  a  brief  visit  to  the  Southern 
country,  where  he  had  never  yet  been.  Some  time  before,  his 
friend  Simms,  of  Charleston,  had  invited  him  thither,  present 
ing,  perhaps,  the  most  tempting  allurement  that  could  be 
offered  him — the  picture  of  a  semi-tropical  spring.  "  We 
have  some  refreshing  novelties  at  that  season,"  wrote  Mr. 
Simms,  "  which  will  bring  you  singular  renovation  and  delight 
after  a  long  winter  of  cold.  Our  country  lies  too  level  for 
much  that  is  imposing  in  scenery,  but  the  delicate  varieties  of 
forest  green,  the  richness  of  the  woods,  their  deep  and  early 
bloom,  and  the  fragrance  with  which  they  fill  the  atmosphere, 
will  awaken  you  to  a  more  encouraging  memory  of  youthful 
hopes  and  dreams  than  any  contemplation  of  the  old,  familiar 
objects.  There  are  no  irregularities  of  rock  and  valley  such 
as  your  native  hills  everywhere  present,  but  mystery  clothes 
the  dense  and  tangled  forests  that  lie  sleeping  around  us. 


A   VISIT   TO    THE  SOUTH. 


407 


You  will  see  the  brown  deer  emerging  from  the  thickets,  and 
fancy  in  the  flitting  of  some  sudden  shadow  that  the  red  Indian 
is  still  taking  his  rounds  in  the  groves  which  hide  the  bones  of 
his  family." 

In  March,  1843,  ^r-  Bryant  went  South.  Some  of  his 
acquaintances  were  doubtful  of  his  reception  there,  in  the 
agitated  state  of  public  feeling,  with  his  known  and  pro 
nounced  opinions  on  the  subject  of  slavery,  but  they  knew 
little  of  the  openness  and  warmth  of  Southern  hospitality, 
lie  went  by  way  of  Washington,  where  he  had  not  been  for 
twelve  years,  and  then  to  Richmond,  which  he  greatly  ad 
mired,  and  afterward  to  Charleston,  where  he  hoped  to  get  an 
opportunity  to  inspect  the  cotton  plantations  and  the  workings 
of  slavery  in  the  seat  of  its  power.  He  spent  about  a  month 
among  the  planters,  hearing  their  defences  of  "  the  institution," 
and  witnessing  the  festivals  and  frolics  of  the  negroes,  when  he 
passed  over  into  Florida  to  breathe  the  fragrance  of  the  orange- 
blossoms  and  enjoy  the  delights  of  summer,  while  his  own 
home  had  scarcely  yet  escaped  from  the  snows.  The  terri 
ble  Indian  war  being  over,  travelling  was  everywhere  unob 
structed  and  without  danger.*  The  splendor  and  luxuriance  of 
the  vegetation,  the  abundance  and  variety  of  the  flowers,  the 
grassy  lakes  of  the  everglades,  the  time-stained  towns,  which 
seemed  as  if,  like  the  chapel  of  Loretto,  they  had  travelled  from 
an  older  continent,  and  the  languages  spoken,  mainly  those  of 
Minorca  or  Spain — transplanted  him  into  a  new  world.  Every 
day  brought  some  surprise  to  the  eyes ;  and  the  people  he  en 
countered  seemed  to  be  unable  to  do  enough  to  render  his 
residence  pleasurablc.f  Throughout  the  South,  instead  of 
the  coldness  and  repulsion  which  had  been  predicted  for  him, 
he  met  only  with  kindliest  greetings.  "  Our  visit  to  the  South," 
he  wrote  to  Mr.  Dana  after  his  return,  May  26th,  "  was  ex 
tremely  agreeable.  New  modes  of  life  and  a  new  climate 
could  not  fail  to  make  it  interesting,  and  the  frank,  courteous, 

*  See  "  Sketches  of  Travel,"  vol.  ii.  \  Ibid. 


4o8  A  POLITICAL  EMBARRASSMENT. 

hospitable  manner  of  the  Southerners  made  it  pleasant.  What 
ever  may  be  the  comparison  in  other  respects,  the  South  cer 
tainly  has  the  advantage  over  us  in  point  of  manners."  In  the 
account  of  his  journey  written  for  his  newspaper,  Mr.  Bryant 
indulged  in  no  criticisms  of  slavery.  He  regarded  himself  as 
the  guest  of  the  kind  people  who  had  opened  their  houses 
for  his  entertainment  and  comfort,  and  his  sense  of  propriety 
would  not  allow  him  to  return  their  good-will  with  unfriendly 
disclosures  of  what  he  had  seen  or  heard.  He  was  not,  how 
ever,  as  we  shall  soon  see,  beguiled  by  these  generous  atten 
tions  out  of  his  settled  judgments  on  the  real  character  of 
slavery. 

Soon  after  his  return,  Mr.  Bryant  completed  the  purchase 
he  had  bargained  for  on  Long  Island.  It  was  near  a  little  village 
afterward  called  Roslyn,  overlooking  an  estuary  of  the  Sound — 
such  a  nook,  indeed,  as  a  poet  might  well  choose,  both  for 
its  shady  seclusion  and  its  beautiful  prospects  ;  embowered 
in  woods  that  covered  a  row  of  gentle  hills,  and  catching 
glimpses  of  a  vast  expanse  of  water,  enlivened  in  the  distance 
by  the  sails  of  a  metropolitan  commerce.  The  estate  was  at 
first  confined  to  a  few  acres  only,  on  which  he  proposed  erect 
ing  a  house  according  to  his  own  taste ;  but  he  was  soon  en 
amored  of  a  house  already  erected  on  it,  and  the  next  year 
made  it  his  own.  It  was  an  old-fashioned  mansion,  built  by  a 
plain  Quaker  in  1787,  containing  many  spacious  rooms,  sur 
rounded  by  shrubberies  and  grand  trees,  and  communicating 
by  a  shelving  lawn  with  one  of  the  prettiest  of  small  fresh 
water  lakes.  It  promised  him  not  only  a  snug  retirement,  but 
a  retreat  for  the  cultivation  and  nourishment  of  his  friendships. 
Curiously  enough,  he  began  to  feel  more  and  more  the  need  of 
intimate  associations.  The  decided  individuality  of  his  charac 
ter  and  the  untoward  circumstances  of  his  early  life  had  kept 
him  from  mingling  much  with  men  ;  but  he  appears  to  have  felt 
the  isolation.  Writing  to  Mr.  Dana,  who  was  still  one  of  his 
very  few  correspondents,  he  indulges  in  a  lament  on  this 
score : 


A   COUNTRY  7/tU//:. 


409 


"You  speak  of  the  solitude  in  which  you  find  yourself  since  All- 
ston  is  gone.*  Dr.  Johnson  said  that  we  must  keep  our  friendships 
in  repair;  but  there  are  some  losses  in  friendships  which  can  never  be 
made  up.  For  my  part,  it  has  been  my  fate  to  live  so  long  among 
people  with  whom  I  have  what  Charles  Lamb  calls  imperfect  sympa 
thies,  that  I  have  learned  to  be  content  with  those  respects  in  which 
we  can  understand  each  other.  I  have  never,  however,  had  such  an 
associate  as  Allston.  ...  At  last,  I  have  house  and  lands  on  Long 
Island — a  little  place  in  a  most  healthful  neighborhood,  just  upon  the 
sea-water — a  long  inlet  of  the  Sound  overlooked  by  woody  hills,  and 
near  a  village  skirting  several  clear  sheets  of  fresh  water,  fed  by  abun 
dant  springs  which  gush  from  the  earth  at  the  head  of  the  valley.  I 
cannot  come  to  you  at  Cape  Ann,  but  you  can  come  to  me  at  Hemp- 
stead  Harbor,  as  you  must.  You  shall  have  fruits  of  all  kinds  in  their 
seasons  ;  and  sea-bathing,  if  you  like  it.  I  found  it  of  great  benefit  to 
me  last  summer  ;  but  the  water,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  as  still  as  a  mill- 
pond  ;  and  you  shall  sleep  a'  mornings  till  the  sun  is  half-way  on  his 
journey  to  noon." 

In  the  interim,  while  preparing  for  his  change  of  domicile, 
he  remembered  that  he  was  still  a  stranger  to  the  northern  parts 
of  his  own  New  England,  in  one  of  the  remotest  hamlets  of 
which,  moreover,  lived  a  solitary  relative.  He  passed  two  or 
three  weeks  of  July,  accordingly,  on  the  borders  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  which  for  picturesque  grandeur  have,  perhaps,  few  supe 
riors  on  this  continent.  The  spurs  of  the  mountains  from 
which  the  State  of  Vermont  is  named  are  outlying  rivals  of 
the  White  Mountains  of  New  Hampshire,  and  possess  many  of 
the  same  characteristics :  vast  silvery  lakes  reposing  in  the 
bosom  of  wooded  hills,  and  large  fertile  valleys  running  up  to 
the  wildest  of  rocky  passes  on  the  heights.  It  was  in  the 
depths  of  one  of  these  valleys  that  he  sought  out  the  home  -  .1 
an  aunt,  of  whom  he  gives  this  account : 

"If  I  were  permitted  to  draw  the  veil  of  private  life,  I  would 
briefly  give  you  the  singular,  and  to  me  most  interesting,  history  of 

*  He  died  July  8,  1843. 


4IO  A  POLITICAL  EMBARRASSMENT. 

two  maiden  ladies  who  dwell  in  this  valley.  I  would  tell  you  how,  in 
their  youthful  days,  they  took  each  other  as  companions  for  life,  and 
how  this  union,  no  less  sacred  to  them  than  the  tie  of  marriage,  has 
subsisted,  in  uninterrupted  harmony,  for  forty  years,  during  which 
they  have  shared  each  other's  occupations  and  pleasures  and  works  of 
charity  while  in  health,  and  watched  over  each  other  tenderly  in  sick 
ness  ;  for  sickness  has  made  long  and  frequent  visits  to  their  dwelling. 
I  could  tell  you  how  they  slept  on  the  same  pillow  and  had  a  common 
purse,  and  adopted  each  other's  relations,  and  how  one  of  them,  more 
enterprising  and  spirited  than  the  other,  might  be  said  to  represent 
the  male  head  of  the  family,  and  took  upon  herself  their  transactions 
with  the  world  without,  until  at  length  her  health  failed,  and  she  was 
tended  by  her  gentle  companion,  as  a  fond  wife  attends  her  invalid 
husband.  I  would  tell  you  of  their  dwelling,  encircled  with  roses, 
which  now,  in  the  days  of  their  broken  health,  bloom  wild  without 
their  tendance ;  and  I  would  speak  of  the  friendly  attentions  which 
their  neighbors,  people  of  kind  hearts  and  simple  manners,  seem  to 
take  pleasure  in  bestowing  upon  them ;  but  I  have  already  said  more 
than  I  fear  they  will  forgive  me  for  if  this  should  ever  meet  their 
eyes,  and  I  must  leave  the  subject." 

These  ladies,  whose  deaths  long-  since  removed  the  re 
straints  which  Mr.  Bryant  felt,  were  Miss  Charity  Bryant,  his 
father's  youngest  sister,  and  a  Miss  Sylvia  Drake.  Meeting 
one  another  at  Bridgewater  when  they  were  about  twenty 
years  of  age  each,  and  forming  the  attachment  spoken  of  in 
the  extract,  they  removed  to  Waybridge,  where  they  set  up 
the  romantic  mode  of  life  which  was  continued  for  more  than 
fifty  years.  Miss  Charity  died  at  the  age  of  seventy-three,  and 
the  other  did  not  long  survive  her  loss. 

The  years  i843-'44  were  among  the  most  important  in  our 
political  annals,  because  they  were  those  in  which  the  con 
science  of  the  North  was  made  to  feel  the  true  character  of 
slavery  more  vividly  than  ever  before.  The  immediate  cause 
of  this  awakening  was  the  series  of  intrigues  by  which  the 
province  of  Texas  was  wrested  from  the  dominion  of  Mexico. 
An  invasion  of  it  by  emigrants  from  the  United  States  was  af- 


' 


THE    TEXAS  QUESTION. 

tenvard  followed  by  a  struck-  for  independence,  which,  when 
independence  was  achieved  through  the  assistance  of  sympa 
thizers  in  the  United  States,  led  to  a  project  for  its  admission 
into  the  Union.  In  every  one  of  these  steps  slavery  was  the 
leading  motive.  Although  at  the  outset  it  was  ostensibly  in 
possession  of  the  field,  controlling  all  departments  of  the  Gov 
ernment,  and  mastering  both  the  great  political  parties,  yet, 
as  it  was  a  battle  against  the  moral  sense  of  mankind,  it.  could 
never  feel  itself  wholly  secure.  The  supremacy  of  the  slave 
holders  was  threatened  by  the  rapid  progress  of  the  North  in 
population  and  wealth.  This  progress  was  only  to  be  counter 
balanced  and  overcome  by  the  conquest  of  new  regions  in 
which  slavery  could  be  introduced.  Texas  comprised  a  ter 
ritory  equal  to  that  of  six  of  the  larger  States,  and,  once  in  the 
grasp  of  the  slave-holders,  might  be  used  as  a  means  of  po 
litical  control  for  the  future.  The  scheme  was  a  stupendous 
one,  and  it  was  carried  out  with  equal  cunning,  fearlessness, 
and  energy. 

Mr.  Bryant  had  opposed  it  from  its  very  inception,  many 
years  before ;  he  continued  his  hostility  at  every  new  develop 
ment  of  the  plot,  and,  in  fact,  became  so  active  and  prominent 
in  his  antagonism  that  his  efforts  require  to  be  described  in 
more  detail  than  we  shall  be  able  to  give  to  other  parts  of 
his  political  career. 

He  was  not  opposed  to  annexation  in  itself :  on  the  con 
trary,  his  confidence  in  the  federative  system  was  so  strong 
that  he  believed  in  the  practicability  of  its  indefinite  exten 
sion  ;  but  that  extension,  to  be  entirely  safe,  required  some 
sort  of  assimilation  or  affinity  between  the  parts  to  be  feder 
ated.  The  Democratic  party  was,  he  thought,  right  in  its 
general  adherence  to  the  gradual  absorption  by  the  republic 
of  neighboring  peoples,  but  it  was  wrong  in  favoring  that  ab 
sorption  at  the  expense  of  a  great  war,  of  an  enormous  debt, 
and  of  a  consolidation  of  slavery.  How  clearly  he  saw  tl it- 
evils  of  the  scheme  may  be  illustrated  by  one  or  two  extracts 
from  his  paper : 


412  A  POLITICAL  EMBARRASSMENT. 

"  THE  ANNEXATION  SCHEME. — If  there  was  no  other  objection  to 
the  scheme  for  annexing  Texas  to  the  territory  of  the  United  States, 
the  unprecedented  haste  with  which  it  has  been  urged  upon  the  action 
of  the  Senate  should  be  reason  enough  for  its  rejection.  It  is  admitted 
on  all  sides  that  a  measure  of  greater  importance,  either  for  good  or 
evil,  has  seldom  claimed  the  attention  of  the  country.  Its  very  im 
portance,  then,  Demanded  that  it  should  be  dispassionately  considered 
before  any  decided  step  was  taken. 

"  The  annexation  of  Texas  would  change  essentially  the  political 
constitution  of  two  separate  nations.  It  would  convert  Texas  itself 
from  an  independent  power,  with  a  distinct  and  thoroughly  organized 
government,  into  the  mere  province  of  another  nation,  with  a  derived 
and  secondary  government  only,  besides  modifying  in  many  ways  its 
commercial  relations  with  the  world.  And  as  to  the  United  States,  it 
would  introduce  a  new  member  into  the  confederacy,  materially  affect 
ing  the  present  rights  and  relations  of  the  older  members,  and  prob 
ably  controlling  their  federal  legislation  for  the  future. 

"  Now,  it  is  obvious  to  our  minds  that  changes  so  important  should 
not  be  made  without  the  deliberate  sanction  and  consent  of  the  people 
of  both  the  nations  which  are  interested.  Several  years  have  passed 
since  the  formal  assent  of  the  Texans  was  given  to  the  project  of  an 
nexation  to  the  United  States.  This  assent,  in  the  first  place,  was 
expressed  through  the  Legislature  of  the  nation,  and  not  by  an  organic 
act,  as  the  case  seemed  to  require,  and  it  has  not  since  been  confirmed. 
Whether  the  majority  of  the  people  are  still  in  favor  of  the  project,  we 
are  left  to  infer  from  the  silence,  rather  than  the  decided  action,  of 
their  authorities.  But  this  is  a  question  of  little  practical  importance. 

"  The  real  issue  to  be  decided  is,  whether  the  people  of  the  United 
States,  whose  rights  are  deeply  involved,  whose  cherished  sentiments 
are  likely  to  be  violated,  whose  civil  liberty  and  peace  are  endangered, 
have  been  properly  consulted  in  this  matter.  Has  it  not  been  sprung 
upon  them  with  the  suddenness  of  surprise  ?  Have  they  had  the  time 
to  investigate  the  bearings  of  the  question,  or  to  ascertain  the  precise 
nature  of  that  new  relation  which  they  are  to  be  forced  to  assume  ? 
Are  they  not  called  upon  to  enter  into  vast  and  momentous  responsi 
bilities,  without  being  allowed  the  time  which  is  requisite  to  weigh  and 
understand  the  tendencies  of  their  untried  position  ?  Surely,  in  an 
affair  of  such  wide-reaching  influence,  there  is  needed  all  the  wisdom 


ANNEXATION  OPPOSED.  413 

and  prudence  which  the  collective  intellect  of  the  nation  could  bring 
to  bear  upon  the  determination  of  it. 

•  are  the  more  surprised  that  the  haste  which  has  marked  these 
proceedings  should  have  come  from  persons  professing  to  be  friendly 
to  the  rights  of  the  States.  If  we  understand  the  doctrine  of  State 
rights,  it  is  that  the  different  States  are  only  members  of  a  general 
partnership,  and  not  the  elements  of  a  consolidated  government. 
According  to  this  theory,  it  is  manifest,  certainly,  that  no  new  partner 
should  be  admitted  into  the  firm  until  the  older  members  had  been 
regularly  consulted."* 

As  the  treaty  for  the  annexation  of  Texas  was  rejected  by 
the  Senate,  it  was  forced  into  popular  controversy  at  the  next 
ensuing  presidential  election.  Mr.  Van  Buren,  the  choice  of 
the  Northern  Democrats,  because  he  had  taken  ground  against 
the  project,  was,  notwithstanding  his  habitual  deference  to  the 
opinions  of  the  South,  defeated  of  a  nomination  in  the  National 
Democratic  Convention  by  Southern  intrigues.  An  old  rule, 
requiring  a  two-thirds  majority  to  effect  a  nomination,  was  re 
vived,  and,  in  consequence,  Mr.  Polk,  a  comparatively  unknown 
man,  but  a  slave-holder,  was  nominated  in  Mr.  Van  Buren's 
stead.  The  New  York  delegation  opposed  the  proceedings 
throughout,  with  great  ability  and  earnestness,  but  it  was  both 
out-generaled  and  out-voted.  Mr.  Bryant  was  inclined,  for  a 
time,  to  withhold  his  approval  of  the  nomination.  But  what 
was  he  to  do  ?  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  ally  himself  with 
the  whig  opposition,  whose  fundamental  measures  of  policy 
he  had  always  been  foremost  in  denouncing;  and  yet  his  own 
party  was  on  the  eve  of  surrendering  itself  into  the  hands  of 
leaders  whom  he  depicted  in  this  wise  : 

"  The  annexation  of  Texas  means  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the 
extension  and  perpetuation  of  slavery  at  the  risk  of  war,  and  witli  war 
if  it  cannot  be  got  without.  It  is  the  pure  Southern  Upshur-Tyler 
scheme.  It  is  the  pill  without  the  gilding,  the  dose  without  the  sugar. 

*  "  Evening  Port,"  May  6,  1844. 


414 


A   POLITICAL  EMBARRASSMENT. 


It  is  plain  enough  to  see  that,  if  this  question  had  been  committed  at 
the  outset  to  men  of  mind  large  enough  to  take  in  all  the  interests  of 
this  great  nation,  Mexico  would  have  been  satisfied,  the  question  of 
slavery  avoided,  and  Texas  annexed  with  honor  and  satisfaction  to 
the  whole  people.  But,  for  our  shame  and  misfortune,  the  matter  fell 
into  the  hands  of  a  few  fanatics,  as  crazy  on  the  subject  of  '  domestic 
institutions '  as  the  maddest  Abolitionists  in  the  Union — men  who  be 
lieve,  or  affect  to  believe,  that  the  summum  bonum  of  Republican  free 
dom  lies  in  the  possessing  of  a  few  hundred  slaves — and  by  these 
slave-holding  fanatics  was  the  question  of  Texas,  a  great  question  of 
extension  of  empire,  dwarfed  into  one  of  enlarging  the  influence  of 
that  pernicious  institution  which  defaces  and  disgraces  our  otherwise 
glorious  country. 

"  This  abortion,  rejected  with  contempt  and  disgust  by  the  whole 
country,  a  few  Northern  Democrats  are  swaddling  and  nursing  and 
trying  to  coax  into  life.  Now,  we  say  it  with  mere  reference  to  the 
interests  of  the  party — interests  which  no  wise  person  can  overlook — 
that  any  Northern  Democrat  who  seeks  to  identify  the  party  with  the 
extension  of  slavery,  and  to  make  that  the  rallying  question,  is  only 
fit  for  bedlam;  and  no  greater  political  insanity  can  be  imagined. 
Slavery  is  an  old,  decrepit,  worn-out,  feudal  institution.  Shall  the 
young  Democracy,  in  its  heroic  youth,  stifle  its  ardent  nature  by  so 
unnatural  an  alliance  ?  Where  slavery  and  slave  representation  exist 
under  the  Constitution,  let  them  exist.  It  is  the  bargain,  it  is  the 
bond.  But  to  extend  these  evils  to  another  portion  of  the  Western 
hemisphere,  and,  above  all,  to  make  this  the  rallying  cry  of  the  party, 
is  evidently  suicidal." 

A  choice  of  evils  was  thrust  upon  Mr.  Bryant,  but  a  choice 
of  extreme  perplexity  and  embarrassment.  In  the  end  he  con 
cluded  that  it  would  be  more  practicable  to  guide  his  own 
party  into  a  better  direction  than  it  would  be  easy  to  recon 
cile  his  life-long  aims  to  a  junction  with  his  adversaries.  He 
was,  of  course,  taunted  with  inconsistency ;  but  he  justified  his 
position  in  this  way,  which,  at  this  time,  will  seem  more  inge 
nious  than  satisfactory : 

"  In  supporting  Mr.  Polk  we  resist  the  pernicious  project  of  a 
National  Bank,  which  will  most  certainly  be  carried  into  effect  if  the 


THE  DEMOCRATS  SUPPORTED, 

Whigs  obtain  the  ascendency  in  the  Government.  In  supporting  Mr. 
Polk  we  withstand  the  project  of  distributing  the  proceeds  of  the 
public  lands — a  most  corrupting  and  demoralizing  project  in  its  effect, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  constitutional  objections  to  which  it  is  exposed. 
In  supporting  Mr.  Polk  we  take  the  only  method  of  procuring  a 
repeal  of  the  present  unjust  tariff,  though  the  Whigs  declare  their  de 
termination  of  maintaining  it  as  it  is,  with  all  its  oppressions  and 
abominations.  In  supporting  Mr.  Polk  we  support  the  scheme  of  a 
treasury  independent  of  banks  and  corporations,  which  all  experience 
has  shown  to  be  a  measure  of  vital  importance.  In  an  election  involv 
ing  such  great  issues,  no  man,  no  public  press,  taking  the  views  of 
them  which  we  take,  can  with  a  safe  conscience  remain  neutral,  and 
allow  a  national  bank  to  be  built  up,  the  proceeds  of  the  public  lands 
to  be  distributed  among  the  States  and  scrambled  for  by  speculators 
and  jobbers,  and  an  iniquitous  tariff,  which  crushes  American  indus 
try,  to  remain  in  force,  without  using  his  best  exertions  to  defeat  the 
party  which  comes  forward  with  all  these  projects  of  mischief. 

"But,  it  is  said,  do  you  regard  the  question  of  the  annexation  of 
Texas  as  of  no  importance  ?  and  will  you  support  a  candidate  with 
whom  you  disagree  on  that  question  ?  We  certainly  consider  the 
Texas  question  as  one  of  great  moment ;  but,  if  those  who  are  un 
friendly  to  immediate  and  unconditional  annexation  do  their  duty,  we 
need  fear  no  danger  from  that  quarter.  The  imminence  of  the  peril 
is  already  over,  and,  if  we  stand  to  the  ground  we  have  taken,  every 
hour  diminishes  it.  There  are  enemies  to  the  annexation  scheme  in 
Texas  itself,  among  whom  we  believe  we  may  count  its  president 
(Sam  Houston)  ;  there  are  enemies  to  it  in  the  South,  even  in  South 
Carolina,  and  the  factitious  zeal  which  has  been  awakened  in  its  favor 
elsewhere  is  already  beginning  to  grow  cool.  We  have  only  to  act 
conscientiously  in  this  matter,  to  meet  the  question  frankly  whenever 
it  comes  up,  cause  it  to  be  well  understood  that  we  submit  to  no 
attempt  to  force  the  annexation  upon  us  as  a  party  measure,  and  to 
wait  for  the  honest  and  unprejudiced  formation  of  public  opinion, 
and  the  day  of  this  scheme,  we  are  fully  assured,  will  soon  be  over.  . 
The  establishment  of  a  national  bank  and  the  consummation  of  the 
other  mischiefs  contemplated  by  the  Whigs  are  dangers  of  another 
kind.  If  the  Whigs  succeed  in  the  approaching  election,  these  mis 
chiefs  will  certainly  be  inflicted. 


4i 6  A  POLITICAL  EMBARRASSMENT. 

"  These  considerations  left  us  no  alternative,  when  the  subject  first 
presented  itself  to  our  minds,  but  the  support  of  the  Democratic  nomi 
nations.  We  are  not  in  the  habit  of  taking  our  ground  lightly  in 
such  cases,  nor  can  we  be  easily  driven  from  it."* 

A  great  many  of  the  New  York  Democrats  coincided  with 
Mr.  Bryant  in  this  view.  They  were  unwilling  to  abandon 
their  own  party  for  another,  to  no  one  of  whose  principles 
they  could  assent;  and  yet  they  were  equally  unwilling  to 
give  countenance  to  their  own  party  in  the  false  attitude  it 
had  been  led  to  assume.  They  endeavored  to  extricate  them 
selves  from  the  difficulty  by  organizing  a  movement  within 
the  party  to  resist  its  fatal  error.  In  order  to  ascertain  how 
far  this  was  practicable,  Mr.  Bryant,  in  connection  with  six 
of  his  friends,  issued  a  private  circular  to  such  persons  as 
they  supposed  might  be  in  agreement  with  them,  soliciting  in 
formation,  and  proposing,  in  certain  events,  a  concerted  mode 
of  action. 

"  [Confidential] 

u  SIR  :  You  will  doubtless  agree  with  us  that  the  late  Baltimore 
Convention  placed  the  Democratic  party  of  the  North  in  a  position  of 
great  difficulty.  We  are  constantly  reminded  that  it  rejected  Mr.  Van 
Buren  and  nominated  Mr.  Polk,  for  reasons  connected  with  the  im 
mediate  annexation  of  Texas — reasons  which  had  no  relation  to  the 
principles  of  the  party.  Nor  was  that  all.  The  Convention  went  be 
yond  the  authority  delegated  to  its  members,  and  adopted  a  resolution 
on  the  subject  of  Texas  (a  subject  not  before  the  country  when  they 
were  elected  ;  upon  which,  therefore,  they  were  not  instructed)  which 
seeks  to  interpolate  into  the  party  code  a  new  doctrine  hitherto  un 
known  among  us — at  war  with  some  of  our  established  principles,  and 
abhorrent  to  the  opinions  and  feelings  of  a  great  majority  of  Northern 
freemen.  In  this  position,  what  were  the  party  at  the  North  to  do  ? 
Was  it  to  reject  the  nominations  and  abandon  the  contest?  or  should 
it  support  the  nominations,  rejecting  the  untenable  doctrines  inter 
polated  at  the  Convention,  and  taking  care  that  the  support  should  be 

*  "  Evening  Post,"  July  26th. 


THE  SECRET  CIRCULAR.  417 

accompanied  with  such  an  expression  of  their  opinion  as  to  prevent 
its  being  misinterpreted  ?  The  latter  alternative  has  been  preferred, 
and  we  think  wisely;  for  we  conceive  that  a  proper  expression  of 
their  opinions  will  save  their  votes  from  misconstruction ;  and  that 
proper  efforts  will  secure  the  nomination  of  such  members  of  Con 
gress  as  will  reject  the  unwarrantable  scheme  now  pressed  upon  the 
country. 

"  With  these  views,  assuming  that  you  feel  on  this  subject  as  we 
do,  we  have  been  desired  to  address  you,  and  to  invite  the  co-opera 
tion  of  yourself  and  other  friends  throughout  the  State  : 

"  i.  In  the  publication  of  a  Joint  Letter,  declaring  our  purpose  to 
support  the  nominations,  rejecting  the  resolutions  respecting  Texas. 

"  2.  In  promoting  and  supporting  at  the  next  election  the  nomina 
tion  for  Congress  of  such  persons  as  concur  in  these  opinions. 

"  If  your  views  in  this  matter  coincide  with  ours,  please  write  to 
some  one  of  us,  and  a  draft  of  the  proposed  letter  will  be  forwarded 
for  examination." 

This  circular  was  signed  by  William  C.  Bryant,  George  P. 
Barker,  John  W.  Edmonds,  David  Dudley  Field,  Theodore 
Sedgwick,  Thomas  W.  Tucker,  and  Isaac  Townscnd.  Of 
course,  when  it  found  its  way  into  print,  it  put  the  mere  party- 
men  into  a  rage.  They  characterized  the  act  "  as  treason — foul 
Abolition  treason — under  the  mask  of  philanthropy,  federalism 
under  the  guise  of  Democracy,  falsehood  under  the  covering 
of  truth,"  and  they  had  no  names  for  its  authors  more  mild 
than  contemptible,  wily,  insidious,  black-hearted  plotters  of 
unimaginable  mischief. 

In  reply  to  these  denunciations,  Mr.  Bryant  said  : 

"  The  confidential  circular,  which  has  made  so  much  noise,  was 
only  a  preliminary  to  an  immediate  public  declaration  of  opinion.  It 
was  written  to  ascertain  the  opinion  of  the  individuals  to  whom  it  was 
addressed.  Such  of  them  as  were  favorable  to  the  views  expressed  in 
the  circular  were,  as  will  be  seen  on  reading  it,  to  be  invited  to  give 
their  signatures  in  a  public  declaration  of  the  same  views,  to  be  pub 
lished  as  soon  as  possible.  Of  course,  an  inquiry  in  regard  to  the 
opinions  of  individuals  must  be  private.  Such  things  are  not  pub- 

TOL.  I.— 23 


A   POLITICAL   EMBARRASSMENT. 

lished  in  the  newspapers.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  no  part  of  the  act 
ual  proceedings  in  resistance  of  the  attempt  to  force  the  annexation 
scheme  down  the  throats  of  the  Democracy  was  to  be  secret,  or  could 
in  its  nature  be  secret.  Their  effect  will  be  to  make  the  Texas  ques 
tion  an  open  question  in  the  Democratic  party  of  this  State,  and  pre 
sent  to  those  who  are  unfriendly  to  annexation  a  ground  on  which 
they  can  conscientiously  vote  for  the  Democratic  nominations." 

The  proposed  Joint  Letter  appeared  in  due  time,  and  it  is 
here  given  in  full,  with  the  introduction  of  the  "  Evening  Post  " 
(August  20,  1844),  as  an  interesting  part  of  the  history  of  the 
time: 

"  We  publish  to-day,  as  we  promised,  the  Joint  Letter  which  was  to 
have  been  sent  to  the  persons  answering  the  circular.  By  its  posi 
tions  we  are  willing  to  abide.  They  have  been  carefully  consid 
ered.  Taken  with  deliberate  judgment,  they  will  not  be  hastily 
abandoned. 

"  We  ask  the  Democratic  electors  of  this  State  to  read  this  letter. 
We  believe  it  contains  unanswerable  truth,  and  points  out  the  only 
course  consistent  with  their  integrity  as  Democrats  and  citizens.  We 
quarrel  not  with  those  who  differ  from  us.  They  may  be  good  men 
and  sincere  Democrats.  We  give  our  own  views  with  the  same  free 
dom  we  yield  to  them.  But,  so  far  as  we  are  concerned,  or  our  coun 
sel  can  have  any  influence,  we  advise  our  fellow-Democrats  to  support 
the  Baltimore  nominations  with  all  fidelity,  with  an  energy  and  ear 
nestness  that  know  no  rest,  and  at  the  same  time  set  their  faces  like 
flint  against  the  *  reannexation  of  Texas  at  the  earliest  practicable 
period,'  or  the  mixing  of  that  question  with  the  struggles  of  party. 

"  To  the  Democratic-Republican  Electors  of  the  State  of  New  York  : 

"  FELLOW-CITIZENS  :  The  present  circumstances  of  the  Democratic 
party  induce  us  to  address  you.  It  has  been  placed  by  the  late  Balti 
more  Convention  in  a  position  of  difficulty,  from  which  nothing  can 
extricate  it  but  prudence,  firmness,  and  a  recurrence  to  its  original 
principles. 

"  The  Convention  rejected  Mr.  Van  Buren,  to  whose  nomination 
a  great  majority  had  been  pledged,  and  nominated  Mr.  Polk,  for  rea 
sons  connected  with  the  immediate  annexation  of  Texas,  and  then 


,/    VIGOROUS  PROTEST.  419 

passed  a  resolution,  the  purpose  of  which  was  to  pledge  the  whole 
party  to  the  annexation  at  the  earliest  practicable  period.  This  signifies 
neither  more  nor  less  than  the  annexation  as  soon  as  it  can  receive 
the  forms  of  law,  and  pays  no  regard  to  our  relations  with  other  na 
tions,  to  the  debts  of  Texas,  or  to  its  slave  institutions. 

"In  this  position,  ought  the  Democratic  party  at  the  North  to 
reject  the  nominations  and  abandon  the  contest,  or  support  them,  re 
jecting  the  resolution  respecting  Texas,  and  taking  measures  to  coun 
teract  its  tendency  ?  The  latter  alternative  has  been  wisely  preferred. 
But  it  ought  not  to  be  done  silently.  On  the  contrary,  there  is  every 
reason  that  upon  a  subject  of  such  magnitude,  where  apparent  ac 
quiescence  might  be  drawn  into  precedent,  the  voice  of  the  whole 
party  should  be  made  known.  That  we  may  do  our  part  toward 
this  object,  we  have  united  in  this  address,  not  merely  to  make 
known  our  own  views,  but  to  ask  the  co-operation  of  our  fellow- 
electors  in  measures  to  counteract  the  tendency  toward  immediate 
annexation. 

"  We  protest  against  the  resolution,  because 

"  It  was  an  unauthorized  act  of  the  Convention.  The  members 
had  received  from  their  constituents  no  instructions  upon  the  subject. 
They  were  elected  before  the  question  had  been  presented  to  the 
country.  They  were  elected  for  a  definite  and  limited  purpose.  If 
they  had  authority  to  pass  any  resolutions,  they  had  none  to  go  fur 
ther  than  to  reiterate  the  old-established,  well-known  principles  of 
the  party.  They  were  elected  to  select  candidates  for  office,  not  to 
promulge  new  creeds  or  annex  provinces. 

"  But,  if  the  members  of  the  Convention  had  had  the  authority  of 
a  majority  of  their  constituents  for  its  resolution,  it  would  not  have 
bound  the  minority,  because  it  was  not  an  exposition  of  any  principle 
of  the  party,  or  of  any  measure  which  those  principles  require. 

"  The  authority  of  party  is  as  limited  as  its  purpose.  Men  having 
the  same  views  of  the  principles  of  their  government  unite  for  the 
purpose  of  putting  those  principles  into  practice.  That  union  is  a 
party.  It  is  founded  on  certain  general  principles,  and  is  limited 
to  them.  To  adhere  to  them,  and  to  concur  in  such  measures  as 
they  require,  is  the  whole  duty  of  party  men.  In  other  respects, 
each  may  act  and  vote  as  he  judges  right,  without  complaint  from  his 
associates. 


420 


A   POLITICAL   EMBARRASSMENT. 


"  The  Democratic  party  has  been  in  existence  from  the  foundation 
of  the  Constitution.  Its  principles  are  as  old  as  the  Government,  and 
have  since  been  constantly  repeated.  They  are  *  equality  and  free 
dom  ;  equal  rights  to  all ;  no  distinction  of  persons ;  no  special  privi 
leges,  and  no  restraint  of  the  individual,  except  so  far  as  may  be  nec 
essary  to  protect  the  rights  of  others.  We  regard  every  man  as  a 
brother,  having  equal  rights  with  ourselves.  We  are  for  the  strictest 
construction  of  all  grants  of  power,  and  the  strictest  accountability  of 
and  those  only,  which  these  principles  require.  So  far,  we  hold  our 
selves  bound  as  party  men — but  no  farther. 

"  The  greatest  danger  to  our  institutions  arises  from  the  tendency 
of  party  to  engross  every  public  question.  This  comes  of  the  selfish 
ness  of  mere  partisans,  who  seek  to  turn  everything  to  their  own  ends. 
We  see  no  more  reason  for  submitting  all  our  actions  to  its  control 
than  to  the  control  of  fashion  or  sects. 

"  When,  therefore,  a  convention  of  party  men  seek  to  pledge  the 
party  to  a  measure  not  within  these  limits,  we  look  upon  the  act  as 
of  no  greater  force  than  the  act  of  any  other  equal  number  of  equally 
respectable  persons.  As  an  opinion,  we  adopt  or  reject  it  as  we  think 
it  sound  or  otherwise ;  as  authority,  we  disregard  it. 

"For  these  reasons,  though  firmly  attached  to  the  Democratic 
party,  we  hold  ourselves  not  bound  as  party  men  by  the  resolutions 
of  the  Convention.  The  resolution  itself  we  consider  unwise  and 
unjust.  We  condemn  it,  not  because  we  are  opposed  to  the  extension 
of  our  territory,  or  the  admission  into  our  Union  of  new  communities 
— not  that  we  would  not  resist  the  interference  of  any  European 
power  in  the  affairs  of  the  New  World — a  policy  to  which  this  whole 
people  is  devoted — but  because 

"  i.  We  have  a  treaty  with  Mexico,  binding  us  to  *  inviolable  peace 
and  sincere  friendship.'  Texas  is  now  engaged  in  war  with  Mexico, 
and  taking  her,  we  take  that  with  her,  breaking  our  pledge  of  invio 
lable  peace.  It  is  not  an  act  of  sincere  friendship  to  take  to  our 
selves  a  country  which  once  belonged  to  her,  which  she  has  never 
surrendered,  and  is  now  struggling  to  regain.  Our  recognition  of  the 
independence  of  Texas  admitted  that  her  forces  had  actual  possession 
of  the  government  of  that  country,  but  it  admitted  no  more.  It 
neither  admitted  nor  denied  that  Mexico  had  claims  and  rights  in 
respect  to  Texas. 


Till:  REASONS  FOR  IT.  421 

"  2.  Texas  has  an  enormous  public  debt,  which  she  is  unable  t  > 
pay,  the  amount  of  which   is  unknown,  and  which  must  either 
assumed  by  us,  or  left,  as  it  now  is,  a  dishonored  claim  upon  an  insol 
vent  State.     In  the  latter  case,  we  add  another  to  the  list,  already  too 

,<t,  of  insolvent  or  repudiating  American  States.     In  the  former. 
assume  for  the  Union  a  debt  not  contracted  by  it  or  for  it — an  act  of 
doubtful  power  and  evil  tendency. 

"3.  Texas  is  a  slave  country,  and,  if  received  with  its  institutions, 
all  magistrates  and  officers  of  what  class  soever.'  This  is  the  Demo 
cratic  creed,  and  the  whole  of  it.  The  measures  of  the  party  are  those, 
will  claim  admission  into  the  Union  with  its  slavery,  its  unequal  rep 
resentation,  and  its  requisition  upon  the  free  States.  We  are  not 
Abolitionists,  and  have  no  sympathy  with  them.  We  are  willing  to 
abide  by  the  compromise  of  our  fathers.  We  will  not  obliterate  a  line 
of  it.  We  will  not  stop  short  of  it,  but  we  will  not  go  a  step  beyond 
it.  No  threats,  no  reproaches,  shall  force  us  beyond  it.  We  stand  by 
the  Constitution  of  our  country.  But  when  it  is  proposed  to  extend 
that  Constitution  and  compromise  to  foreign  countries,  we  take  leave 
to  inquire  what  sort  of  countries  they  are,  and  by  whom  inhabited. 

"  It  is  said  that  the  annexation  of  Texas  will  not  increase  the  num 
ber  of  slaves.  If  it  were  so,  it  would  not  remove  our  objection,  for 
the  annexation  would  still  increase  our  connection  with  slavery.  Why 
should  we  multiply  our  relations  with  it,  even  if  the  sum  total  remains 
the  same  ?  If  we  were  proposed  to  bring  under  the  American  flag 
all  the  slave  communities  in  the  world,  would  it  overcome  your  re 
pugnance  to  it  to  tell  you  that  the  number  of  slaves  would  not  be 
increased  ? 

"We  are  unwilling  to  give  to  any  foreign  slave-holding  nation 
those  extraordinary  and  unequal  privileges  greater  than  our  own, 
which  our  forefathers  gave  to  their  brethren  and  companions  in  arms. 
A  citizen  of  Mississippi  with  five  slaves  has  virtually  as  many  votes 
as  four  citizens  of  New  York.  If  Texas  ever  comes  into  this  Union, 
no  one  of  its  citizens  shall  have,  with  our  consent,  more  power  than 
a  citizen  of  our  own  State. 

"  But  they  err  who  think  that  the  annexation  of  Texas  will  not 
increase  slavery  and  the  number  of  slaves.  The  annexation  is  pressed 
upon  us  by  a  portion  of  the  South  as  a  new  source  of  prosperity  for 
slave  industry,  and  a  new  guarantee  to  their  institutions.  Do  they 


422  A   POLITICAL   EMBARRASSMENT. 

not  know  their  own  interests  better  than  we  ?  Political  economy  and 
our  own  experience  both  teach  us  a  different  lesson.  Slavery  has 
increased  in  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas  since  the  annexation  of  Lou 
isiana.  Slave  breeding  is  always  commensurate  with  slave  markets. 
Population  expands  with  the  means  iof  its  subsistence  and  the  de 
mand  for  its  industry.  To  increase  the  market  and  the  value  of 
labor  is  to  increase  the  population.  No  law  of  political  economy  is 
more  certain. 

"  For  these  reasons  we  are  firmly  and  unalterably  opposed  to  the 
annexation  of  Texas,  in  any  shape  in  which  it  has  yet  been  offered  to 
the  American  people.  But  we  cannot  consent  to  see  Whig  candidates 
elected,  and  Whig  policy  prevail  in  the  general  Government.  Nor 
shall  that  ever  happen  if  any  effort  of  ours  can  prevent  it.  The  great 
principles  of  our  party  were  never  more  firmly  rooted  in  the  hearts  of 
a  majority  of  the  American  people  than  at  this  moment,  and,  if  the 
election  can  be  made  to  rest  on  them,  we  shall  assuredly  prevail. 
How  shall  we  separate  the  true  issues  from  the  false  ?  How  to  recon 
cile  the  conflicting  wishes  and  duties  which  the  error  of  the  Baltimore 
Convention  has  created,  is  the  question  we  have  anxiously  considered. 
We  see  no  means  of  doing  so  but  to  support  the  nominations  made  at 
Baltimore,  and,  at  the  same  time,  promote  the  nomination  of  members 
of  Congress  opposed  to  this  annexation.  The  President  can  do  noth 
ing  of  himself  if  the  two  Houses  are  of  a  different  opinion.  To  this 
point,  then,  we  invite  your  particular  attention.  You  can,  if  you 
choose,  effectually  counteract  the  tendency  to  annexation  by  electing 
members  of  Congress  opposed  to  it.  You  are  about  to  elect  thirty- 
four  members  of  the  Lower  House  of  Congress,  and  a  State  Legislature 
that  will  elect  one  member  of  the  Senate.  If  we  might  be  allowed  to 
counsel  you  at  this  crisis,  we  would  do  so,  and  earnestly  entreat  you 
not  to  falter  in  your  support  of  the  Baltimore  nominations,  but,  at  the 
same  time,  to  nominate  for  those  elections  no  man  who  is  committed 
to  this  scheme — this  unwise,  unjust,  un-American  scheme  of  adding 
Texas  to  our  dominions,  without  even  a  plausible  pretext,  with  inde 
cent  haste,  regardless  of  treaties  and  consequences,  with  its  war,  its 
debt,  its  slave  institutions,  and  their  preponderating  political  power. 
"July  is,  1844." 

This  was  an  unsuccessful  battle  in  its  immediate  effects. 
It  did  not  arrest  the  tendencies  of  the  Democratic  leaders. 


THE  BATTLE  LOST.  423 

On  the  contrary,  Mr.  Calhoun,  Secretary  of  State,  acting  in 
conjunction  with  President  Tyler,  on  the  very  last  day  ol 
their  tenure  of  office  (March  3,  1845),  procured  authority,  by  a 
joint  resolution  of  Congress,  to  incorporate  a  foreign  powrr 
into  the  Union,  without  a  single  constitutional  sanction,  and 
with  the  certain  prospect  of  war.  But  the  battle,  though  un 
successful,  was  not  fruitless.  It  aroused  an  opposition  to  slav 
ery  which  was  no  longer  confined  to  the  moral  convictions  of 
a  few  individuals,  or  of  a  small  class.  The  contest  passed  into 
national  politics,  where  it  became  more  and  more  dominant. 
At  the  next  presidential  election  the  antagonists  of  slavery 
were  strong  enough  to  make  independent  nominations,  and, 
within  ten  years  thereafter,  were  able  to  rally  to  their  side  a 
formidable  array  of  intelligent  and  manly  voters.  / 


END  OF  VOLUME   FIRST. 


14  DAY  USE 

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LOAN  DEPART//. 


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